London

London

Filled from corner to corner, wall to wall, small, single-digit-aged, Asian children sit in two rows of six. Side by side, the children’s desks work tirelessly to remain in a straight line across the width of the room. Front to back, the desks work endlessly to remain in two distinct rows. A yellow-haired, plump, Caucasian woman stands at the front of the class. With her back turned, the woman writes on the glass, dry-erase-type board. 

The dozen children, bored, begin to squirm. Two of the smaller boys tussle over a shared eraser, since one of them forgot his. The woman whips her head around and scolds the two entangled boys and mimes something that looks vaguely like a longing sentiment as if pleading with the boys to cease. Lacking authority, the entanglement multiplies until all of the male students form a large mound of bodies on top of the initial child who lacks the eraser. Curious, the girls stand but keep their distance.

Inept, the woman continues to stand at the front of the room and speaks out instructions with requests that they listen and follow. None hears her soft-spoken plea, and now, some of the girls join in on the raucous. Eventually, the woman walks over to the pile of children and attempts to peel each off the others. Successful, she manages to reduce the pile by half, but in doing so, the freed members bolt for the door as the bell rings and run for the bathroom. As the woman continues her useless attempts at disassembling the remaining boys, the eraser-less child begins to scream. Silent, the room falls, and slowly, the boys, self-motivated, remove themselves from the heap.

Angrier now, the eraser-less child peels himself off the floor and immediately flings his body into the classmate with whom the entire quarrel commenced. The classmate dodges the eraser-less kid, and in slow motion, the woman watches as the eraser-less kid flies over two chairs, slides over a third and crashes onto the floor. Before his body falls limp in a solo heap, however, his forehead hits the right table leg of the c-shaped desks. Thunk. Screeches and scratches tear through the room as the woman runs to the eraser-less boy. She flips him over and yells for one of the other students to get another teacher. From the eraser-less kid’s forehead gushes buckets of blood as the woman attempts to protect the kids’ cracked skull from the elements.