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Beneath the wheel
As it did every school day of my junior year, 11:12 AM had come once more to mark the end of my academic morning, and the beginning of my lunch period. After paying my one dollar for a small cherry vita-pup slush drink and a strawberry fruit roll-up, I would take my place at the usual lunch table. The next forty-five minutes were always used as an escape from the labor and frustration of the academic world. Whether my time was spent playing bass in the band room, or spent engaging myself in conversation with my close friends, I never let schoolwork, tests, or quizzes interfere with th…
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