My foot finds a rabbit hole, sending me spread eagle to the ground. I look over my shoulder at the clock on the library building. “Late,” I say, “I can’t be late.”
Back on my feet, no time to dust myself, I wedge through some shrubs along the sidewalk near the test building. Skipping stairs to the entrance. Door locked. I try another. Then another. Locked, but I see someone inside. “Let me in!” I pound on the glass.
The person opens the door and stares at my sweat. “Everything ok?”
“I’m late for my exam.”
“What exam? It’s Sunday.”