B11
Social Studies
We sit in murky darkness watching projected images.
I see the people around me fuzzy, like a static T.V channel.
The windows are large and cut into quarters. Covered with thick old curtains.
The sills are chipping with paint that's bubbled from summers heat.
I squint to survey the walls which are masked in posters with squiggly lines, colourful dots.
The desks have ink embedded into their wood.
We make make tattoos on our victims as we wait for the lessons to end.
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