The English Literature classroom .
Alex sat at his desk. He tapped his finger on his notebook.
Da-DUM. Da-DUM.
Football was rhythm too. The sound of the ball being kicked. The sound of feet on the grass. The roar of the crowd.
"Mr. Finch," Mrs. Woolf asked. "Can you complete this rhyming couplet? The ball flew high into the sky..."
Alex looked up.
"And landed where the seagull fly," Alex suggested.
"Grammatically questionable," Mrs. Woolf sighed. "But poetic enough."
Mark sat next to Alex. Mark was wearing a beret and a fake mustache (again). He was writing furiously with a feather quill.
"I AM A BARD!" Mark whispered loudly. "I AM WILLIAM SHAKES-SPEED!"
"Mark," Alex whispered. "That is not a real name."
"It is my pen name!" Mark insisted. "Listen to this. The pizza is round, the cheese is yellow, I am a very hungry fellow."
"That is terrible," Alex said.
"It is raw emotion!" Mark argued. "It speaks to the soul!"
The bell rang.
