“Judith! Are you sleeping? Judith?”
Joel, seating next to Judith, sends a side kick under the table that hits her square in the shin and makes her head jerk up.”
“Judith. You were sleeping” – accusing tone, almost hurt.
“No, sir. I can assure you…” – voice trailing off, Judith raised her hand slowly, gently peeling the piece of paper stuck to her chick, a look of incredulity in her face.
“You were saying?” – asks Mr Brown.
Red faced, Judith decides silence to be the best defence. As soon as the teacher turns back to the black board Joel passes her a paper tissue he’s damped in a little water from his bottle: “you’ve still got a bit of dry drool….”
Judith grabs it up quickly and cleans her face, whilst her body slumps and slides on her chair, hoping against hope that the ground would swallow her.
In the background Mr Brown’s deep, monotone, somniferous voice carried on: “Girafes unique drool & tongue enable them to…”