De-composition Part 1

I peaked at her from the corner. I bat my lids and looked up front; down again to the newspaper nicely hiden under my desk. I wonder if this will ever end, or is there no real ending? The bouts of low i get, after all these years, I can see that they are cyclic.

There she was again, running her fingers through her hair, tucking them behind her ears and she blew her nose. She does that every morning. I long for these days, long forgoten by those who made it such. Sneaking off classes to catch a few games of pool. It has been a long way since then.

My answer was elaborate, vague, maybe philosophical, at elast that was how it was meant to sound. "...I don't know" and the whole class burst out in laughter. I laugh at mself a lot these days, alone. So much less like me back then, my mind would wonder off and I will laugh at all thsoe good old days where jokes were fresh. Laughter was never forced.

I caught her laughing, in the midst of the circus I made. I knew I have nailed it, she took notice of me...