I sit, glued to my seat watching the hands of the clock creeping as if each second they have to repeat and repeat… does time stand still just minutes from the bell's final trill? twenty seven ticks from summer's embrace but I swear that the hands have stopped on the clock face. the bikes are all there waiting for that bell freedom begins when we hear the tones swell, yet try as hard as I might to move those hands, we are waiting for school to end, but still, time stands.