It starts like this
At first, we look shy and intimidated. We’re eleven people sitting around a big square table that takes up most of the space. The room is warmer than I would like it to be, the blue carpet is worn and smells like a wet dog on a rainy day. People come in and sit down without saying “hello”. Everyone has an iPhone, no one has a BlackBerry, not even the economist to my right, but then I wouldn’t know: I’m busy acting like I’ve just received the most important e-mail of my life so the other students won’t notice I’m nervous. I put my phone down on the table and sit on my hands to keep them from shaking. Some cookies have been laid out on a tray by the door. I wonder how loud my footsteps would sound if I were to walk all the way to them, but I don’t entertain that thought for long; the last thing I want is to bring attention to myself.
More people come in, and finally the teacher, who looks exactly like the photo on the website. She says we’ll start in five minutes. I take a deep breath. Five minutes until I run out of excuses. Five minutes, and everyone will know exactly what kind of writer I am.
* Ilustração: Thiago Thomé (Liquidpig).