Paranoia

The Words:

penguin, flu, arrow, pen, wire, water, flower, disgust, brick, cunning, speechless

**

I hate the boy sitting in front of me. If I had an arrow, or a dart I wouldn't hesitate taking a shot at his uglier-than-quasimodo back. It isn't hunched or crooked really, but it's a window. A window for all things which made my throat clench in disgust and left me damnably speechless.

See, most people have bricks stocked up, cunning walls built up. I'm used to that, just like being used to using water to keep a flower alive. But his walls are non-existent. It's like finding a penguin that doesn't have its cute little wobble. If I stuck something into him, it would disappear.

I twirl my pen and watch the clock. God, I need to get away from this kid. As if some reciprocal wireless connection existed between us, he turns and says, "Hi." I close my eyes and wish I could pretend not to hear, but I did hear him and I did need to answer. God, I hate him for being so real.

I open my eyes and am staring abck into his hazel ones.

"Do you have Swine flu?" I hear myself say, "I can smell it on you."