XXII | Age

❦

Sunday morning,
I thought of texting Rowan

to apologise

but I found
that I don't have her number.

So at the hottest time of the day,
I got out of bed and went to the nameless chicken rice shop.

Grey shutters covered the glass doors.

In big painted red letters a sign:
CLOSED ON SUNDAYS.

Monday, I see her in class,
staring at the teacher

with expressionless black eyes.

She never looks at me.
Never comes over.

We don't talk
until it's project work time.

And then I'm on the opposite side,
laptop screens between us.

Rizwan is arguing with Julie
about which approved proposal
we should choose.

'Let's vote,' Rowan says.

Julie glares at Rizwan.

We vote.
A proposal is picked.

Now for field research.

'Someone at my church leads volunteers at IMH,'
Rowan says.

Rizwan leans back in his chair,
punching the air above him.
'Done! Early dismissal.'

'Physics.'
I grin.

He groans.

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