Lack of Care

You go to that horrible class, the day seems to be too long already as the teacher drones on about yet again, slavery. You don't pay heed to her words that stand against racism, standing up for that black man that had struggled to make it to this fixed point in history.

You look away, towards the slither of a window that looms across the side of the classroom, shining the bright scene of the freshly fallen snow, that clings to the multitude of trees that stand in there place. You wonder if the snow doesn't want to be on the ground for whatever reason.

'Hey, dumb a*s,' the figure in your head suddenly interrupts any further thought on the snow outside. 'The hell you think you are doing? F*****g listen, You know better!'

Or you did, once. It has been a while since those days, but you whisk away any more lingering on such trivial ideas of any matter that concerns the past.

Looking away finally from the window you listen back into the long winded lecture on the tired subject.