Trigonometry

Father had greased up the Headmaster, so I was
welcomed back. I wondered if he’d bribed the
awful man, or donated money to some old boys’
network. Whatever, I climbed into my uniform. It
felt itchy and absurd. Returning to school, after
everything that had happened, seemed like juvenile
stuff. I couldn’t share my dreadful experiences
with Richards. Such things were entirely out of
his league. In morning assembly, I tried to listen
to the blabber about perfect ties and pulled-up
socks. It was ridiculous nonsense. Lessons
seemed beside the point. Trigonometry wouldn’t
equip me with useful life skills. Latin was simply
trash about ancient dead people. It all flew over
my head. I never uttered a word in class. I could
feel detentions coming my way. I didn’t care.
Education was futile. I thought of just one thing.
How I must find Elizabeth.

Author: Robert James Berry

Poet & Novelist