The loud, piercing voice, showering traces of spit under the hood of a hollow dark shadow, declared over his head,
“What?
You don’t even know the spelling of
E.M.B.A.R.R.A.S.S.M.E.N.T?”
That's when the descent started really. From then on, the voices, now more of hissing and hushing, have been making sure he never misses that spelling again.
‘Life is a roller
coaster ride’ they had said, but he wonders why, for him, the rickety ride up
was always pleasurable and never the descent.
*quite an oxymoron, isn't it?
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