#30 – jolt

What is taste? What is good taste? What is bad taste?

Ferdinand stared off into the middle distance. He had twenty minutes to fill two handwritten pages. Handwritten. Travesty. Who wrote things down by hand anymore? But Harrison was a fossil and it was her English class he’d been unlucky enough to get assigned to, so Sustained Silent Writing it was. Every day. Five days of the school week. Unless he was absent, which was rarely to never since his mother insisted that public school was the bes...