Truth

She's walking from desk to desk, feeling their auras. She's searching for the one desk that contains it. The truth. She's never had a talent for knowing which was what. She walks past a dusty old one in the far left corner of the room. She pauses. Then without a word, she moves on. She looks up to see a man watching her, curious about what she is doing. She tosses her raven black hair behind her shoulders and continues the process. She's not quite ready to choose yet.

The dusty old desk remains in her mind as she wanders around the rest of the desks. Every time she reaches the desk, she pauses without an indication of why. It stands out in the midst of all the new desks in the classroom.

She sighs heavily as she passes it fore the fifth time. It's been exactly twelve hours now. Twelve hours since she's entered the classroom. She knows she must make the decision in the next hour.

Her pace quickens. She now circles the classroom in a matter of seconds. Twenty four seconds to be exact. One second for each of the twenty new desks and four seconds for the old, dusty desk. This pace causes her to have to run, to have to rest after every circle.

At the tenth circle, she stops.

She looks up at the man whose dark blue eyes are emotionless, his hands tucked into the pockets of his old gray overcoat. She points to a desk in the room. The man nods.

She exits the classroom and sighs in relief. The decision is over. It's all over.

She walks through the lonely hallway and wonders if she really did choose the right one. No matter, it was too late to pick again now. She stops by the school's office to see if there was anyone left in the building. The phone was unlatched and emitting a beeping sound. She walks into the office and relatches the phone.

She quietly picks up her papers at the front desk and walks out the door. As she approaches the school's exit, she realize something. The man hadn't brought out the desk when she had chosen it like he was supposed to. She runs back to the classroom, her footsteps echoing through the hallway.

She peers in through the classroom door. She sees the man sitting in the desk she had chosen. She freezes. It was wrong. It was all wrong.

The man simply smiles at her and points to the desk beside him. The dusty, old desk.

So that was it. She had chosen both the right desk and the wrong desk.

It wasn't her truth that she had found after all.