There was rain, sudden amounts of it arriving to our windowpanes like a storm of BirthdayPresents;
nobody had yet quite touched the food banquet provided.
The teacher had squirreled around the school for boxes of frozen paninis, french fries, cannolis, and some soup--I offered some to one of my friends, not taking any myself.
A boy I've known for a long time kept helping himself to my mother's homemade veggie stew.
He somehow missed the carrots, all lying in a heap of liquid in the camel-coloured bowl.
The windows turned pitch black, then silver--then a blaze of red, green, and blue. Like when the telly goes a bit berserk. There was, in fact, so much rain that nothing could possibly be seen from these windows. I was the sole witness of this momentary phenomenon, taking place just seconds before the windows begun to crack.
The glass was giving in.
"C'mon," I hollered, "Gather round here so we won't get hurt......!" I paused, reflecting upon how awfully heroic I was acting up. I shrugged; the broken bits of glass stuck in my fingers from last week's wine glass had no doubt boosted me into this level of sheer naivety. "Better hurry or the glass will----"
BREAK
