Away from the fading crowd, he waits.
For a signal.
Some aberration from the conundrum to let him know.
When the clock will strike at its annonted time.
Blood begins to boil, a remberence of the foil he left behind in the brine.
Facing left he sees the one he came for, the only one he came for
As a murder of crows hastens the class leaves in droves.
Ha ha Hardy and the gang laughing up a storm drain.
Trifling, she stayed behind to pontificate with the headmaster.
She looked like a hamster, in a good way.