The School of Thought Part 1
By Sir Loin
- 151 reads
“Where’s our teacher?”
“I have no idea.”
“So… we can do whatever we want this lesson?”
“I think we have to solve the riddle on the board.”
Harold glanced at it.
It makes things stiff and stops the rot.
It comes at night where the sun is not.
It creeps down low below the hot.
What is it?
“Ok then,” he said.
Harold retrieved his phone from his backpack and started to look through his gaming library. He loved playing strategy games, but the riddle on the board, not his thing. Harold found the concept of a riddle stupid.
They want to describe a word in some vague, silly way, Harold thought. And they expect me to figure out what it is. No.
“Are you going to search up the answer?” asked the boy from next to him.
“No,” said Harold in defence.
“Aren’t you a little concerned? On our first day, in a school that costs tens of millions in tuition, the teacher doesn’t even show up for our first lesson.”
“Should I care?.”
A silent moment passed as the nervous boy hesitated. Finally, he tried to introduce himself“
I’m Connor by the way,” he said.
“I’m Harold,” Harold mumbled.
For the rest of the lesson Harold played on his phone while Connor tried to make conversation with him. The other eight students in the class moved around, chattering and playing with each other until the bell rang at the end of the hour-long period. As it rang an announcement was played over the speaker. “All students to Hall A for assembly. I repeat, All students go to hall A for assembly.”
I hope all the lessons here are like that. Harold thought on the way to the hall
The hall was a big space. Ten chairs were set up in one row facing a low, well lit stage. Harold sat in one of the centre chairs with Connor still to his left, sticking by his side. The school only had ten students. It was a private school which sold itself as a unique and exclusive institution, a farm that raised genius.
A woman in a Suit stepped up onto the stage. She held a microphone up to her mouth and spoke.
“Morning dear students,” her voice boomed across the hall.
The sound irritated Harold. Why the hell does she need a mic? He thought. There's only ten of us and we’re sitting right in front of her.
“It’s so wonderful to have you all stay here with us at this wonderful school of thought,” she continued. “Principal Kahl and I have such high hopes for this cohort and I hope you hold yourself to the same standards. If I am correct you’ve all had your first thinking lesson this morning. I came up with that name myself, you know. And I'm very proud of it.” She let out an annoying little giggle. It sounded like she was trying to pronounce hahaha correctly.
Thinking lesson? nothing I'd be proud of, Harold thought.
“Would one of you like to come up onto the stage and share the answer?” the woman asked.
Connor turned to Harold. “The answer to what?” he asked.
“I don-”
“You!” the woman called out, pointing to Connor. “Would you please step onto the stage dear?”
Hesitantly, Connor got up and walked onto the stage, head lowered.The lady looked him up and down.
“Did you dress yourself this morning? You look sloppy!” she exclaimed. “Tuck in your shirt and button your tie. Present yourself properly.”
After Connor did as he was told, the lady held her microphone to his face.
“Will you please give us your answer to the class riddle?” she asked.
“Oh, the class riddle. I didn’t think of an answer,” Connor mumbled.
The lady paused. “Oh my,” she said, retracting the microphone. “On the first day? And with such a simple question.”
“Can I sit back down now?” Connor asked.
“I need to explain something to you all immediately!” the lady shouted into the microphone. “At this school there are consequences for misconduct. Misuse of technology will result in its confiscation, misuse of your body will result in detention and misuse of your mind-”
A man in a hooded cloak walked onto the stage from the back. He approached Connor, bearing a double bladed axe.
“Will result in decapitation.”
The man swung, separating connors head from his neck. The head spun up though the air before coming down onto the stage floor.
Note: im looking for feedback so if you could give me some then that would be great.
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Comments
It ends on a wonderfully
It ends on a wonderfully surreal note. Nice IP response - thank you!
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