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Double Biology.

Peter Walsh flicked a clot of blood off his heart onto my science overall.
Twat.
I'd put my fountain pen down to cast a spell on him.
The clot fell on the wooden desk. I rolled it between my fingers. Aimed it at his laughing face and flicked. It landed with a splat, the ball opened across his cheek splatting blood over his face. I left my hand up and rolled my middle finger up at him. It was worth a detention.

I’d forgotten until I saw his facebook update earlier:
‘Still in hospital after a Heart attack.’

2 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt over 6 years ago

    If it wasn't sad, it would be poetic!

  • avatar

    Lisa Williams over 6 years ago

    In 1983 I never found poetry in Double Biology X

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