Author: | Emily Dickinson | ISBN: | 9781311667311 |
Publisher: | Emily Dickinson | Publication: | May 31, 2014 |
Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
Author: | Emily Dickinson |
ISBN: | 9781311667311 |
Publisher: | Emily Dickinson |
Publication: | May 31, 2014 |
Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
Language: | English |
I had a loathing for numbers. No siree. Give me words, I was good with those. I could charm my way into Canada wearing a “I will fuck all the old men and take their money” sign. But maths, physics and chemistry that dealt with numbers was not my forte.
And I hated especially that the lines between alphabet and numerals have become blurred and with letters worming their way into equations making it more difficult for me. That was the whole reason I ended up being at the library at 2 am. Because I had to cram formulas and equations and all that shit in less than 8 hours. I never do all nighters; I rather sleep in my fucking bed than stay in some lonely ass library doing work. But I had to. I failed one test already, I was lucky I was getting a make up paper.
I was comfortably buried in piles of paper at the back of the library and I almost didn't notice someone was walking along the bookshelves to my right. What a loser, being in the library so late. Well I was here, at least I knew I didn’t wanted to be. But whoever this was, seemed quite contented. The incessant humming they were doing was driving me crazy on top of how pissed I already was, I was about to tell the fucker to piss off when I saw it was Missy.
Prissy Missy. Damn. Now I can't tell her to piss off cuz she was like, the baby of the class. Not exactly the baby, but more like a little kitten you just wanted to play with and feed and not let run in the middle of the street. She saw me and waved shyly. I saw her scurried over with a bunch of papers in hand.
“Research Paper” was all she said as she took a chair across from me. Frankly, I welcomed the presence of another human being even though I knew she wouldn't talk much. I didn’t mind. She was nice enough, and smart too. So if I needed some help I could ask her.
I had a loathing for numbers. No siree. Give me words, I was good with those. I could charm my way into Canada wearing a “I will fuck all the old men and take their money” sign. But maths, physics and chemistry that dealt with numbers was not my forte.
And I hated especially that the lines between alphabet and numerals have become blurred and with letters worming their way into equations making it more difficult for me. That was the whole reason I ended up being at the library at 2 am. Because I had to cram formulas and equations and all that shit in less than 8 hours. I never do all nighters; I rather sleep in my fucking bed than stay in some lonely ass library doing work. But I had to. I failed one test already, I was lucky I was getting a make up paper.
I was comfortably buried in piles of paper at the back of the library and I almost didn't notice someone was walking along the bookshelves to my right. What a loser, being in the library so late. Well I was here, at least I knew I didn’t wanted to be. But whoever this was, seemed quite contented. The incessant humming they were doing was driving me crazy on top of how pissed I already was, I was about to tell the fucker to piss off when I saw it was Missy.
Prissy Missy. Damn. Now I can't tell her to piss off cuz she was like, the baby of the class. Not exactly the baby, but more like a little kitten you just wanted to play with and feed and not let run in the middle of the street. She saw me and waved shyly. I saw her scurried over with a bunch of papers in hand.
“Research Paper” was all she said as she took a chair across from me. Frankly, I welcomed the presence of another human being even though I knew she wouldn't talk much. I didn’t mind. She was nice enough, and smart too. So if I needed some help I could ask her.