[stylist] Hood exercise

[Bridgit Pollpeter]

Here is an attempt at the exercise I prompted.

 

Bridgit

 

Kimberly sat tapping her finger nails on the side of her laptop.  Her
stomach grumbled while she tried to concentrate on the hand-out Mr.
Hansen had distributed to the class.  Papers rustled on nearby desk, and
pens scratched across fellow students papers.  The clock on the wall
tick-tocked as she struggled to keep her eyes opened.  Flipping the top
of her Braille watch up, she checked the time .  She kept popping her
eyes open and jamming them shut in an attempt to wake herself up.

 

"Miss Michaels, are you okay?"

 

Kimberly blinked in Mr. Hansen's direction.  Blushing, she played with
the ear bud cord dangling from her laptop.  "No, sorry."

 

Mr. Hansen chuckled.  "This is what happens when they assign classes
before lunch."

 

Kimberly smiled and returned to the assignment.  Placing her ear bud in
her ear again, she tried to pay attention to the droning electronic
voice of JAW's.

 

Voices punctured the silence shouting in the distance.  Kimberly tilted
her head trying to make sounds out.  A metallic bang bellowed through
the empty halls.  She froze, fingers paused above her keyboard.  A
buzzing surrounded the room as classmates whispered together.  She heard
the click of the door as it opened.  The muffled shouting formed into
words.

 

"Get back in your rooms!" a disembodied voice yelled.

 

The door slammed shut as people rushed down the hall.  The phone by Mr.
Hansen's desk rang.  His voice quavered as he answered the call.

 

Students abandoned the whispering.  Zippers clinked on bookbags, books
and papers swooshed off of desks.  Keys clacked furiously as students
sent text messages.  Kimberly, trying to catch her breath, gripped her
white cane.

 

"Kids, we need to stay put-someone in the school is firing shots."

 

The tension that had been bubbling on the surface now erupted filling
the room with commotion.  Kimberly clutched the sides of her desk.  She
tasted vanilla and cherries as she licked her lips.

 

"Calm down-we need to stay calm," Mr. Hansen shouted.

 

Kimberly slid down in her chair.  Closing her eyes, she slipped the hood
of her sweat shirt over her head.  Shrouded by her oversized hoodie, a
tear trailed down her cheek while she steadied her breathing.

 

 

Sam eyed the chocolate layered cake tempting him from the corner of his
desk.  He shuffled numerous reports stacked in front of him.  Checking
paper reports to electronic ones, he looked up when a knock rapped on
his door.

 

"Hey, Detective Holms-great party.  Ready to retire?"

 

"After forty years, I guess it's about time I concentrated on other
things.  Maybe I'll do some traveling."

 

"Headed out, just poppin' in to say good-bye."

 

"Hey Stanton, want some cake?"  Sam pushed the cake forward.

 

Stanton smiled.  "Already had two pieces-thanks though."

 

Sam grunted.  "Sheri has me on a diet."

 

"Good luck with that."  Stanton laughed as he walked down the hall.

 

Sam rubbed his eyes as he turned back to his reports.  Ready to leave,
He stood and stretched as the phone rang.

 

"Holmes."  His face hardened as he sat back down.  After a minute, he
sat the phone back in its cradle.  Walking to the door, he shouted out,
"We have a code red!"

 

He slumped back in his chair.  Leaning forward, he held his head in his
hands.  He turned his eyes up as an officer entered.

 

"Code red, sir?"

 

Sam sighed.  "A shooting happened out at Southwest high school.  They
think a student was the shooter."

 

"I'll send the APB out, sir."

 

"When will these hoodlums learn?"  Sam picked up the phone to call his
wife.  His last day of work would be a full day.