As the semester comes to an end and, once again, I am faced with finals, I begin to reminisce about the school year. I’ve had quite a few experiences. I’ve been blessed with some wonderful new friends and, even in the face of some unpleasant events, I have been able to come out on the better end of the deal. In particular, I praise God that I have finished nearly all my general education courses. Only a few left to go, and then I can focus entirely on my chosen field. I have to admit, however, that some of my favorite little ramblings have come out of the classes I have enjoyed the least. My previous post is a perfect example of this. However, there is another little short story that I have yet to post here on this blog that was spawned out of my particularly stressful College Algebra final last semester. I’ll admit, I’m somewhat partial to that one as well.
This one is simply called “In Appreciation of…”, as I have to be appreciative of my Algebra class in that it did inspire me, though to what end I will leave you to decide. So without further to do, enjoy!
The atmosphere was tense as the army of nervous warriors took their places on the battlefield. Arranged in haphazard rows and columns, the soldiers awaited the arrival of the enemy. Then there! The foe was upon them! Armed with primitive weapons, the points of which had been dulled by many such battles, the warriors leapt forward, ready to give all they had to defeating the monsters before them.
They were creatures of foul repute, these fiends; age-old enemies with innumerable, wily attacks that left even the most seasoned warrior hapless to defend themselves. Not to be fooled by their supposedly frail bodies, these monsters could rip flesh so stealthily that half of their victims didn’t even realize they were upon them until it was too late. Their pale, white skin and beady black eyes, inky black orbs that spoke of evil intent, struck fear into the hearts of the otherwise fearless soldiers that faced them.
It was an intense battle. Quivering wisps of grey matter curled upward, evidence of a waning morale. For every attack that the warriors executed, the enemy had one that was greater.
At last, however, the first of the fiends were felled. Slowly, ever so slowly, the victorious warriors carried themselves forward on trembling feet, their trophies held securely in their aching hands. Once they proved that they had defeated the foe, the king would release them from this ghastly battle.
The king was waiting for them at the edge of the battle field. He smiled as, one by one, the victorious soldiers stepped forward to present their proof of success, as though their now lack-luster eyes were not proof enough of the trial they had so recently faced. Then with a smile and a soft word of thanks, he sent them on their way.
How many poor souls were defeated that day, none can be sure. But, at least, that algebra test was finally over.