Aug 21, 2016
high school. tenth grade. biology class. a thursday.
i’m scratching cuss words in the back of my textbook.
she sits at the desk in front of mine. we’ve never really known each other apart from having a few casual conversations.
she turns around to face me, and she asks: “you know that Jack Nicholson movie? the one with him in that mental institution?”
“One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest?” i reply, raising my eyebrow i look up from my crass scribbles.
“yeah that one! i watched it recently and it made me think of you.” she turns back around.
our conversation ends.