Cozily I nudged myself into a nook of branches within the lilac tree, that had stood rooted in the backyard by our kitchen window since I was a baby, and having situated myself comfortably amongst the blooming fragrant purples and waggling leaves, I pulled my notebook and stray papers out from beneath my arm and snatched my pen from behind my ear, and fell into thought.

This story was turning out to be a good one, and though my teacher was expecting this science creative-short turned in by the end of the week, it had grown to beyond fifty pages, so really, I was doing her a favor by deciding not to. At this point I couldn’t fix it, even if I tried. Screw it. I’d take the F, and would most likely be ditching her class tomorrow as well, as it was impossible to get anything done with Ms…