Alessandro Della Vecchia with the story:
task in class
Today, a task in class.
Mathematics, to be precise. The ruin-media par excellence. The bumps on a smooth masonite board. The ground, the obstacle, the spanner in the works. At least I see it. All my inferiority complexes are concentrated in quell'accozzaglia formulas, equations, square roots and integrals. One night I even dreamed of, twisted and twisted until it becomes four-footed beasts of the indefinite features: they are kept on a leash by a woman of small stature from skeletal forms, and completely covered in black latex. He saw only her hair curly and matted.
not late to identify it just like my teacher.
My grades were getting worse, and she heard about it. At home I happened to grab more and more often with violence all the books and hurl it against the wall. Davo always blame it on something warm, the rumor coming from the kitchen, the cat who would lie about the book ... everything was good for downloading. The night I was turning in bed and I often soiled the pillow of hysterical tears.
I said, she heard about the deterioration of my of my stress. Since then entered the class staring at me silently, with malignancy. He liked to lock me up in his eyes that color opaque glass. It was run imperceptible flicker of the lips, trying to hide his grin of victory, the victory against the class nerd finally tamed.
Today greeted me with barely concealed deliberately sardonic grin. Maybe the other class are beginning to notice. With measured steps, the infamous pass between our desks by ticking the heels of his boots and distributing the questionnaires. Gave a final look at the class, to make sure you have everything under control. Then he sat with folded arms.
As she sat, I get the paper in his hand. Arrived at chair, threw it up front along with a small metal object. She looks at me in amazement without saying a word. I will send back an evil smile and I take off my T-shirt, showing what was underneath.
Only then did I see his eyes opaque glass shattered by the horror at the sight of the spool and the chair of the grenade.
Mathematics, to be precise. The ruin-media par excellence. The bumps on a smooth masonite board. The ground, the obstacle, the spanner in the works. At least I see it. All my inferiority complexes are concentrated in quell'accozzaglia formulas, equations, square roots and integrals. One night I even dreamed of, twisted and twisted until it becomes four-footed beasts of the indefinite features: they are kept on a leash by a woman of small stature from skeletal forms, and completely covered in black latex. He saw only her hair curly and matted.
not late to identify it just like my teacher.
My grades were getting worse, and she heard about it. At home I happened to grab more and more often with violence all the books and hurl it against the wall. Davo always blame it on something warm, the rumor coming from the kitchen, the cat who would lie about the book ... everything was good for downloading. The night I was turning in bed and I often soiled the pillow of hysterical tears.
I said, she heard about the deterioration of my of my stress. Since then entered the class staring at me silently, with malignancy. He liked to lock me up in his eyes that color opaque glass. It was run imperceptible flicker of the lips, trying to hide his grin of victory, the victory against the class nerd finally tamed.
Today greeted me with barely concealed deliberately sardonic grin. Maybe the other class are beginning to notice. With measured steps, the infamous pass between our desks by ticking the heels of his boots and distributing the questionnaires. Gave a final look at the class, to make sure you have everything under control. Then he sat with folded arms.
As she sat, I get the paper in his hand. Arrived at chair, threw it up front along with a small metal object. She looks at me in amazement without saying a word. I will send back an evil smile and I take off my T-shirt, showing what was underneath.
Only then did I see his eyes opaque glass shattered by the horror at the sight of the spool and the chair of the grenade.
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