Backclassroom

You had an unexpected slumber during the last class, lulled by the hum of the heater and the soft rustle of pages. When you awoke, the school was eerily silent, the clock hands had swept past the hour of dismissal. Your classmates had all but vanished, their desks empty, the room bathed in the gentle hues of the setting sun. The solitude was palpable, a quietude that seemed to amplify the ticking of the clock and the distant echo of your own breath.

A sense of calm urgency washed over you. The hallways, once bustling, were now a labyrinth of shadows and silence. The thought of navigating through the dimly lit corridors to the exit was both unnerving and oddly peaceful. You gathered your things, the rustle of your bag a stark contrast to the stillness. With a final glance around the deserted classroom, you set your mind to the task of finding your way back home, a journey that, despite the strangeness of the situation, felt oddly serene.