mEMoRy

On a rain-soaked day, my friend and I decided to skip an exam, casting aside the dull and monotonous routine of academia. With a devil-may-care attitude, we ventured out into the stormy world, just for fun. School is boring.

As the raindrops pelted the pavement, our laughter echoed through the campus. We went to the extreme and shut off the power to the entire floor, sneaking into an office and changing the computer wallpaper to a collection of puppies. We left behind a trail of chaos and mayhem, disregarding the rules and responsibilities that had bound us for so long. With each audacious step, we reveled in the feeling of liberation, for the world had become our canvas.

The rain became our accomplice, blurring the lines between reality and anarchy. We splashed in puddles like reckless children, soaking our clothes and our cares. We dared the world to judge us, to call us foolish, as we danced between the raindrops, our rhythm a defiant challenge to the norm. We competed in the rain to see whose paper plane could fly farther, but they always fall in the pond, crushed by the mud and water into pieces.

In those stolen hours, we experienced the intoxicating thrill of living on the edge, rejecting conformity, and embracing chaos. We were cynics and cool rebels, leaving behind a world of conventional wisdom for a day in the tempestuous spotlight of defiance.

But in the end we were punished anyway. It’s worthy.