Last lesson of the afternoon

Essay by Afzal7864u February 2007

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My hand clutches my lifeless bag and heaves it off the ground in anticipation. I am waiting eagerly for the last bell of the tiring week to ring. I listen wearily to the last few words of the teacher as she rattles away like a broken record! It is obvious that the teacher, as she stands in front of the class with exhaustion written all over her face, is also waiting the weekend ahead.

As the warmth of the summer breeze rushes into the class, it carries the smell of freshly painted walls. While munching on the last slice of lunch that was lying in my bag, I watch the excited faces of my classmates as they pay no attention to what the teacher is saying, but make plans for the weekend ahead.

Irritation starts to set in as the bell still does not sound. I can almost taste the delicious meal awaiting me at home.

Then finally the bell goes. I spring up off my seat and rush out into the corridor racing towards the stairs. Everyone is heading in the same direction like a herd of charging buffalo. Down the stairway finally and out of the school. Hurray!

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It was completly done on my own