Billy thought a bird. And then he woke up. A bird was on his windowsill.
It chirped.
Billy got dressed; socks first, then pants.
Billy put on two shirts; one to tuck under his pants, one to go over and look normal.
Billy made his way downstairs and found his mother making sandwiches. White bread, butter, mustard, and some sort of meat product.
Billy hated the sandwiches. But he ate them every day because his mother made them with love.
We are all like Billy. We all eat things we don’t like for love.
Billy took his lunch, said bye to his mother, and went outside to catch the schoolbus.
The ride to school was uneventful. He was teased for his height, his barely noticeable stutter, and his hair cut. He was covered with condiments twice.
Uneventful.
After cleaning in the bathroom, finding himself late to class, he hesitated before opening the door. But he did. Open the door.
Ms. Desjardin was standing in front of the class, and turned her head. Towards Billy. She looked no less than a Doctor Who villain.
‘Billy, you are late.’
Billy looked at the floor.
‘Billy, take a seat!’
There were no more desks available, so Billy took a seat, cross legged, at the back of the room. Ms. Desjardin started asking the children about their weekend, one by one.
Billy became frightened, and collapsed in on himself. He just couldn’t take the pressure. He could barely breathe.
Finally, Ms Desjardin called on Billy. ‘What did you do on your break?’
Billy looked up, and his happy moment became suddenly sad. It wasn’t his, anymore.
‘I thought a bird’