Adam’s Dreams of Due-Dates
Part I: Fort Apocalypse, The Exam
Adam Ritten sat at a desk and scrawled words in response to this question:
X=(1-A)exp(kt)/(Ln(b))
when it occurred to him that the people around him were writing much faster than he was, as though the question had not tripped them up the way it had him. How could that be? he wondered. But there they were, those people, those industrious labourers stuck in the plantation property of a gym that smelled like urine, scrawling away with the determination of crows pecking around the stink sack of a dead skunk.
He grabbed his orange and stood up.
“Adam, what are you doing?” whispered Cody.
“Nothing.”
“Sit down… Don’t!”
“It’ll be fine,” said Adam, climbing onto the desk and raising the orange over his head. A few people looked up at him, but not many; they were too busy working. It was, at that time, ten minutes after two.
“I am an orange,” Adam announced to the gym. As heads turned his way, the proctors began to move towards him. “And oranges,” he bellowed, “don’t write exams!”
He tossed the fruit into the air. It landed near the foul line, where Mr. Bailey kicked it on his way to extracting Adam from the exam. The orange rolled under the benches.
Adam heard a murmur of confusion as he was escorted outside the gym, but it was altogether not the response he had been expecting. Beyond the doors, Adam listened to Mr. Bailey growl for ten minutes, the old man alternating between demanding to know what drugs he was on and asking if he needed a doctor. His left eyelid twitched the whole time.
“Well, what was that?” demanded Principal Vickers when she arrived.
“What do you mean, ma’am?”
Arms crossed under lipstick lips made Principal Vickers’ blue dress look purple, tight, and a little sexy. “Try to figure out what I might be concerned with. Look into my eyes…”
“Oh you mean the orange thing… I just fancied that I might be a fruit of some kind. An orange seemed like a good bet.”
“You should be so lucky,” she said, standing over him. “Caught cheating twice in one year and now trying to fake insanity to get out of an exam. Plus that weed thing. Mr. Ritten,” she grinned, “could you hand over your bag, please? I’d like to have a look inside. And then perhaps we can have a long discussion about the dubious prospects for your future.”
I am a kiwi.
That’s just weird.
Don’t tell anyone. I’m still in the closet.
Fruits generally do poorly in closets. Please be careful.
I’m touched that you care.
I have a soft spot for kiwis. Especially soft ones.
Touch me again.
Done.
I once knew an orange who wrote an exam. He did pretty well, too. But I think that’s because the teacher grading them was bananas.
Ah Weebles, how you strive so effectively for mediocrity. In a middle-of-the-road type of fashion, I think you would make a perfectly pedestrian fruit, say a tomato or something. I am curious about your orange friend though. I’m sure he was quite appealing.
You’re right about the kind of fruit I would be, as a matter of fact. Many times I’ve walked down the street and guys have said, “Wow, check out the tomato!”
You do make me laugh Weebles.
Then my work here is done.
Where have you been guy? Hope all is well. >KB
All’s well KB. I owe you some comments. From my end, I’m drowning in corporate nonsense. It’s neverending, and entirely ridiculous. How’ve you been?
Good, even writing some prose, though not lately. Stopped worrying about making it sound like poetry and just started typing–short story- I’ve got about 2,500 words. Poetry is good. Doing a lot of short line things in between the bigger pieces, found another calling I think. Well I’m sure you’ll tell me. Good to hear from you. Later.>KB
Good to hear you’re letting it go – and getting into prose on top of it! Looking forward to reading it.
It will be some time getting to the prose–though I’m due for an overdrive of mania soon–who can tell.
Haha!! Adam’s almost brilliant. Almost because he got caught. A few more acting classes and he might have gotten away with it.
He’s not very swift, I’m afraid. I suspect his luck goes downhill from here.
nice to see you back in my reader dear Trent. fruitylicious.
Happy to be back. Funny how the chaos so easily overtakes you.
Like the new pic and yes life has a way of burying us, alive and screaming.
It’s how we respond that counts, I guess. Happy to hear from you Audra. I’m amazed at how much I feel for this little community hereabouts, and how much I miss it when I’m being otherwise consumed. I never really set out to get into blogging to build relationships with people, but happy that I have. You folks is cool, I say.
Agreed!!!
This reminds me, not in an accusing anyone of anything way, of some of the atmosphere of “infinite Jest”. Or maybe the movie “MASH”. Not sure. But it’s great, a real tonic to read.
Thanks Seb. I love Mash by the way, grew up on that show.
Ah, but the show was a lot different from the movie…
I only vaguely remember the movie, but I know it was highly-regarded. Something about the repetitive syndicated pounding of Mash in the evenings has driven it into my head permanently, I think. I remember if fondly, all that macabre stuff and the humour and the sheer absurdity of it all.
The beauty of it was that they used the fiction of one war to parody the madness of another war…
Trent, where have you been?
Where is your writing? This one’s not bad believe me, but I plead to be the monkey observing the crows pick away at your writing to their satisfaction. Hello crows! Hope your feathers and beaks have been good.
Doc, I’m just trying to keep it simple. I do miss these crows hereabouts though, even the loud ones. Hope you’ve been well too.
Yes! I owe it to my Creator and Watcher.
I see you want to go simple. Just a minute while I solve this equation before me requiring me to match simple with trent. Wow! These crows are doing it. No such luck for me. I give up! “I am a tail!” Trent-Simple match failure.
Heya doc, well, not everything simple stays that way I guess. The crows, the crows… I think writing and storytelling are different things, in some ways, the crows peck at both though. This one is simple and amusing for me, but I promise to give the monkey his due in time. He is always scratching at my neck to do so.
Back with a bang, Trent. Very funny indeed.
I was beginning to think you’d gone from the face of the earth.
Thank you my friend. It’s cold in Canada, so we hibernate at times. It’s quite relaxing.
first off, what’s the answer to the fn question?? lol is that math???? funny, but I had a math teacher in highschool that was also the track coach…and his eye twitched…but for a much different reason…hehe
I am so glad yo see you back, and love that he called himself an orange. I have missed you, Lewin!
Hey Susan, good to hear from you. Been swamped lately but back for a bit. Have to check out your stuff in next couple of days.
Darn all the best jokes have gone – but I did used to be a mushroom
Why am I not surprised, Bruce? A magic mushroom, perhaps?
Lewin!!! Orange you glad I’m back? Lime glad you are! Moving on with the cereal now…or is it serial up there in the frozen north? I’m pickled tink to be back and pickling on you. ha! such good material….and tell Bruce all the best jokes are just getting started. See ya in part deux!
Oh boy… the puns have started. Glad to see you back, southern belle, it’s about time!
I need to finish this series. Tag, you’re it.
http://weeeeeeeeeeeblog.wordpress.com/2013/03/09/someone-likes-me/
I’m glad I forgot you for awhile because I am so in love with your writing that it is hard to think about anything else …its just so good and I read a LOT it makes me full of something
i dunno
its love
true
mm
yep
i have to bookmark u again so I can squeeze that orange
I am a bee this weekend
going to fertilise some flowers
You’re making me blush something awful Poet.
it’s what i do
smile
go with it
you’re special
just write a fucking book