Flash Fiction: The Right Answer

It was a time when the only choices you had were A, B, C, and D.  Your eyes glazed over, a few times crossed, and I knew you were asking yourself where the other choices were. The ones of 1, 2, 3, and 4. This was the test you had prepared for, not some test created by small-time kooky sideshow freaks.

You raised your hand and quickly put it back down before the instructor noticed.  You painstakingly filled in the ovals, pausing to bite your pencil in between your head scratching.  This was the test of all tests.  The test that never rests.  The test that bested you from beginning to end. 

I watched you leave the room in frustration. The following day, we saw our scores. They would not let you progress and would keep you another year with the clowns and jugglers. As for me, my test was more maybe than no but not enough of yes.

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