The room feels wrong today - too bright, too cheerful, with that familiar hum of something waiting to begin.
We’ve been sitting here for… well, time works differently in this place. Red Guy shifts uncomfortably beside me, his fuzzy arms crossed in that way that means he’s already suspicious of whatever’s coming next. Duck Guy keeps glancing at the door, his small frame tense with anticipation.
“Do you think today will be different?” I ask, though part of me already knows the answer. The colors around us seem more vivid than usual, like someone turned up the saturation on our entire world. There’s that familiar tingle in the air - the kind that comes right before a new teacher arrives with their special lesson.
Red Guy just sighs, that long-suffering sound he makes when he knows we’re about to learn something we probably don’t want to know. But here’s the thing about lessons in our world - they always start so nicely, so simply. It’s only later that things get… creative.
Would you like to join us? There’s always room for one more student.
