“Remember, there will be extra credit for writing a one page essay on the upcoming convention with the governor,” I said as the sixth period students made for the door like the room was on fire.

None of them seemed to pay much attention, and I knew I’d receive only a handful of poorly written half pages. I’d mostly wanted to see what Mike had to say about it, considering his views on the people involved.

I sat at my desk watching the clock, waiting for Mike to show up for detention. So much time spent in all my lives waiting for people or events. Waiting to be invaded. Waiting to invade. Waiting to be executed. Waiting for the seasons to change. Waiting for the harvest. Waiting for the hunt. Waiting for the rain. Waiting to arrive at my destination. Waiting for history to...

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