The last games came and went, without any warning or play.
The first day of this year, marked by pages of math and little celebration,
we were given games for an hour. It was the first authentic thrill of the day and all were excited.
But me?
I was in my own world of hurt.
She had her face deep in her palms, letting out water mixed with regret for something I did.
And when she looked up and spoke,
her wet face broke me in ways nothing ever did.
I sat through the whole period in deep thought.
I knew I did something wrong yet had no idea what.
I wanted to apologise but I didn't know how...
But, what could I do about it now?
And well...
That's how the last games period slipped through my fingers
with just despair, desperation and a final whistle...