Red spots are appearing in his neck and on his jaws while he walks towards the blackboard. It is evident his hands are shaking - only just a little, but noticeable still. His eyes are flashing left and right across the classroom. He doesn't want to be there. He doesn't like this. At all. He'd rather take a run and leave through the door which is just a little ajar so fresh air can slip in on this warm, moist day. Sweat marks are under his armpits, leaving dark spots on his red T-shirt. Then he starts talking. The tremble in his voice when he speaks aloud. A little stutter. You know exactly what he feels. The tension. The anxiety. The uneasiness. Even though you are just sitting here. Even though you are only watching. Even though you should feel calm and relaxed. Still you can imagine what is going through his mind.
