An exam hall sounds like what you hear when you go diving.
It is soundless, but for the rustle and crack of papers, pens and chairs, muffled yet distinct, swallowed into the cavernous depths of the exam hall.
Glances spared between the watch on your wrist, and the examiners prowling amongst the chairs and tables.
The slight feelings of dread, as they loom over your shoulder, then drift away, disinterested.
Moments of panic, as you realise your time is short.
Then the first deep breath of fresh air as you emerge.
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- lyraDaryl
- Mid-late 20's, a late bloomer that was born to party but forced to work. Frequently at odds with myself and the world around me, with an unpleasant dichotomy of personality. Constantly troubled by who I am, who I want to be and who I'm supposed to be. Usually plagued by the thought that I'm supposed to be somewhere doing something important, but I just don't know what.
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