A gloomy afternoon. Ugh and I am having nothing fun to do at school. I tried to peep down the window but as usual it is very silent. This scorching summer heat is making my head to crave for something cold. Maybe ice- cream or cola. Well I don’t know I just wanted something like that.
Woah! I spaced out. I didn’t even knew at which line Mrs. Dabodia is. Mrs. Chetna Dabodia, my English teacher. She is having a poker face. I had never ever seen her smiling. Not even once. And today she is reading the story ‘A Different Kind of School’, very fast. I mean she usually read the chapters fast but she is at an unimaginable speed today. I mean I am not able to understand even a single line she was reading even though the book is lying here in front of me, at this wooden table. A scraped wooden table. I guess it is older than our school.
There is a knock at...