Young Scrooge

D and I were in the university library. We were both writing our essays, or rather, should have been. Silence prevailed because it was 11pm and only the remaining swotters sat in front of their computers typing away, piles of research books all over their tables.

A Chinese boy wore a fresh shirt and his tie was still tightened; he kept putting his finger up to push his large, square framed glasses up his nose, as his fingers flew across his keyboard at breakneck speed. They didn’t stop tapping even when he glanced up and around him.

A group of students sat in one of the conference rooms not too far from us. They looked pretty chilled, leaning back in their chairs. One of them was playing a game on the large screen usually used for presentations.

They kept erupting into loud, muffled laughter.

D kept glaring at them.

“What’s wrong?” I asked after a while.

“They’re too happy” he growled, brows knitted together, as he angrily scrolled down a Pinterest page, procrastinating.

That made me laugh, folks. He sounds like an old, cantankerous grouch, my 24 year old husband does.

c8c6dc8cbbd9b45df94f55cae9a9d319.jpg

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “Young Scrooge

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s