Berlin
Senior Lister
It was a highly unusual day in the school that Friday, partly from the high number of pressed navy blue blazers and the odd scents haphazardly splashed by high school lads on a science contest day.
Fortunately my school was hosting the contest so we had a home advantage, or so we told ourselves. From our classes we continously preened and fussed over our images after all, 1st impressions must be golden and above reproach.
I was as nervous as could be, owing to the fact I'm painfully shy and I whisper often like a serpent.
At around midday the wolves were let forth from their cells and we pounced on our prey, needless to say it was a disaster after disaster for me.
In my naivety I figured hunting in a pack would provide me a leverage, but as time went by I learnt a very important lesson I've held dear in my heart to date.
After enough flops I quietly decided to leave my pack and walked to the canteen, nothing like a cold sprite to calm my frayed nerves.
I got my drink and left for the abandoned classes, eternally convinced of my utter loneliness through life. I recall somewhere along the blocks I ran into a dark, petite, stunning specimen of a lady in a maroon attire. Her poise and her pony tail were the stuff I dreamed about, I approached her and laid bare my manifesto.
Long story short, she found me sufficiently charming to accept me providing her with my name and school address.
I'll forever muse at the fact that in my nervousness I wrote my name sloppily and that was the demise of Esther and Berlin's tale.
Fortunately my school was hosting the contest so we had a home advantage, or so we told ourselves. From our classes we continously preened and fussed over our images after all, 1st impressions must be golden and above reproach.
I was as nervous as could be, owing to the fact I'm painfully shy and I whisper often like a serpent.
At around midday the wolves were let forth from their cells and we pounced on our prey, needless to say it was a disaster after disaster for me.
In my naivety I figured hunting in a pack would provide me a leverage, but as time went by I learnt a very important lesson I've held dear in my heart to date.
After enough flops I quietly decided to leave my pack and walked to the canteen, nothing like a cold sprite to calm my frayed nerves.
I got my drink and left for the abandoned classes, eternally convinced of my utter loneliness through life. I recall somewhere along the blocks I ran into a dark, petite, stunning specimen of a lady in a maroon attire. Her poise and her pony tail were the stuff I dreamed about, I approached her and laid bare my manifesto.
Long story short, she found me sufficiently charming to accept me providing her with my name and school address.
I'll forever muse at the fact that in my nervousness I wrote my name sloppily and that was the demise of Esther and Berlin's tale.
