The sixth part of my short story. Please note that this is only a part of the story and a rough first draft to boot. It will all be compiled into an edited, completed short story when all is said and done. This is to make sure I’m being held accountable for my 30 day writing challenge!
A third form boy seated in one of the front desks spoke up. “Are you okay Mr. Bullock? You don’ t look well.”
Victor locked onto the boy at the front in his buttoned up polo shirt. There was something about the way his hair curled perfectly at the fringe. It set him on edge. It made him mad. Victor approached the desk and towered over the boy. He looked down at those beady, self important eyes. “I don’t look well huh? I’ve been thrown off my career ladder, the legs are sawn off, and I don’t… look… well?”
“Sorry Mr. Bullock,” said the curly haired kid.
The brat had insulted him and now he was offering insincere apologies. Victor’s face went red hot. His legs stiffened and his back arched. With both hands Victor grabbed the wooden desk, books and all, and marched with it above his head and across the room — it nearly touching the ceiling. He looked through the windows at the ground, one story below. With a crashing of glass the desk sailed through the air and to the concrete where it splintered and broke into two clean parts.
The boy looked dumbfounded and stayed seated at the place at which his desk had once been.
TO BE CONTINUED…