Jimmy was no longer present, having walked away long before Zorn reached the middle of his speech.
“You take the orange and yellow sub-schools!” he yelled from somewhere down the hall. “I’ll take the blue and green.”
After the ninth empty classroom, Zorn’s mind went on autopilot. He began to fantasize about the end of the world. In his apocalypse, however, there were no zombies or cataclysms, no evil scientists or mad despots. It was just him and his friends, an endless supply of food and water and Delmont and Bunny episodes, and interminable electricity and puppies. And a fetching but elusive brunette, no, brunette sisters, and some parakeets.
“Ooops. So sorry.”
He’d opened a door on a class in progress, a full class it looked like, all of them bent studiously over some kind of test.
