By Cyan Frank-Hanachor
Propped on scrawny legs with scabby knees, rivulets dribbled on the blanched slate,hunched shoulders still smarting from swats from the stern teacher.
Heart thumping loudly,she willed numb fingers round tightly-whorled doodles the “meanie” had scribbled on the board;terror churning blurred images of the jumbled script of the spelling bee.
Scrawling,head lowered, the stout heart gnawed on trembling lips; shielding hesitant fingers from prying eyes that scorned at her “pretend” seriousness!
Darting a piercing look at imaginary rivals, the cocky :
“Don’t spy on my work!” tremulous in the daguerreotype of “Infant One”.