The mighty clouds (Part II)

So, I planted the jackpot under my shirt and darted into my room, bolting it from inside. Dawn was good 7-8 hours away and I was determined to burn the midnight oil. My jittery heart was thumping and I could almost hear the turbulent young soldiers marching and pounding their way through it. Scary images of sitting proctor squads breaking into my room began pouring in my nervy brain.

Struggling to overcome my fears, I placed the questionnaire on my study table. There was something bizarre about the paper. It donned a resemblance to fabric and was at odds with any other paper that I had ever seen. And then it happened.

The moment I fixed my eyes onto the enchanted piece of paper, the words vanished as if by a supernatural eraser. Then in a jiffy, there was a blaze and the entire draft was incinerated. "No! No!" I screamed, but all in vain. Then there was silence and all one could hear was the birds bawling the same sorrowful songs of lost love.

I know that all you highbrows must be wondering -  'Birds at night' ?? Yeah yeah, you all are correct as always. It wasn't night and it weren't the birds singing either. I was in my bed, coming back to life out of my deep slumber and the alarm was howling. It was two days prior to my "graphics" paper and my mind was clouded by a plethora of questions -'Had I been dreaming' ?? 'Did that supernatural parchment had actually provided me with two days of time to prepare'??

The edacity to escape the guilt of stealing made me believe the former one. So the paper was still two days away and I had ample time to avoid flunking out. But was I really gladdened?? Had I really buried my hatchets with Mr Einstein ?? And then I looked up at the clouds from my window. Strange!! A figure conjured out my brain but it wasn't an elephant. It was a pen. Probably this must be the reason for all my potboilers.