Amanda Hugnkiss

My terribly difficult Anatomy exam that I took last Thursday was just that. Terrible! Or at least that’s what I expected as I walked out of the test. We got our scores back today. When scores are delivered, they put them into our mailboxes at school. It was like an Alaskan river during salmon spawning in the mailroom. There must have been 50 people in my class in there. The smell of apprehension was thick. I could actually hear pulses as I walked into the room. Apparently, everyone else felt as I did about our prospective scores of such a difficult exam. As I worked my way to my box, I passed many telling countenances, some smiling, some not. As I sidled up to my mailbox, I could see it inside, all pink and ominous (our anatomy practicals are done on pink answer sheets). For the moment, it was just me and that mailbox. I could feel my palms sweating; my heart racing. “Whoa there big fella”, I said. There’s still another exam to make up the points. As I reached down for my key, I had an uneasy feeling, like waiting for the warden to throw the switch. I slowly slid the key in, turned, and opened the door. Had it come to this? Was I really afraid of a pink paper? And as I felt my last ounce of courage begin to flee, I saw it; a “B”.

What happened next cannot be explained. I grabbed the guy next to me (good thing it was a guy and a straight one at that) and hugged him. He simply smiled and said, “Good news?” I closed my box and began to leave the room, a smiling salmon with my pink “B”.