by Gabor Zapreskó

Tick-tick-tick... - The piece of plastic falls and rolls away after dancing on the dirty floor for a second. Students jump at the insolent source of sound piercing the sacred harmony of the classroom like a dagger. Panicked looks cross the labyrinthine corridors of desks and chairs, then meet in an exchange of despair: fear of a cataclysmic, world-shattering event that must never come to pass. No, the teacher must not turn around! She just started writing on the blackboard too, professionally ignoring the pathetic chorus formed by the sighs of relief of the miserable students, not a single one of them interested in the lecture, nor understanding a word of it, yet still sitting there with an expression that would make one think they were contemplating the nature of the very universe. But only when the teacher was looking. Once she turned her back to them, the bunch came alive, started interacting – not quite in the most polite of manners.

Yet this time, there was another sound too, that blasphemous sound of the piece of plastic that fell off one of the girls’ pens. After the initial panic subsided, the holy quest that would give these young people a purpose beyond their feeble attempts at paying attention began. Who would find it first, and then return it to the damsel who lost it? A team of brave crusaders dove into the maze of planks and metal bars, until a blonde adventurer of great courage claimed the object of disturbance, and triumphantly held it aloft, a scene like when Arthur drew the sword from the stone. Gasps of awe where heard, praising the fast find, and the blonde looked around, trying to identify the person who dropped the exalted piece, to return it to its rightful owner.

(2011)