Navel-gazing

Gronk needed time to recover from the set-back of his exam results. Privately he admitted no effort at all was put into revision, but exams were meant to be easy for a superlative man of his calibre. Gronk knew his gifts were at least genius level. His dichotomy was a certain low-life emerged with exam success. He mulled over how Steve Nobody managed to pass anything, let alone get the grades to go to University. It was inconceivable to him that such a talentless turd could outperform him. It must be just a blip. Gronk thought about the accent he cultivated and his Poshey contacts. He liked art, classical music, French and looking down on people. Surely that was enough to pass a few stupid exams, he thought. 

Ensconced in his room, he brooded over how all his efforts to become a Poshey had not been appropriately rewarded. Those exam results dashed what he saw as a right to go up to the University of Snookford. It was an affront to decency and common sense. His Poshey acquaintances would all be there. It was a right of passage to being truly high-handed. And he was going to miss out. Gronk knew he would find it difficult to keep in touch with Fathead and the other Posheys as he would remain in the Snook while they swanned about Snookford, insulting commoners and having a jolly wheeze.

He paced around his bedroom for weeks on end. It was a massive slight to his self-importance, self-esteem and self-worth. Dammit, what about my self-Gronk?!! He contemplated life over and over again. His immediate response to the exam disaster was to launch an appeal. He concocted an elaborate story in which someone had stolen all his notes and then he was kidnapped, which prevented him from revising. It was only by guile, skill and an almost super-human level of athleticism that ensured his escape just in time to sit the exams. Surely the exam boards would see sense and revise the grades upward to straight As. Gronk was confident of success and he would then expect the University of Snookford to come grovelling back and beg him to honour them with his presence.

But he received a letter upholding the ridiculous F grades. All of them. Not even a single increase to any grade. He tore the appeal result up and threw the pieces into the air. Scattering down like a miserable snowstorm, he sat and held his head in his hands. It dawned on Gronk it was time to move on from the Snookford dream. But to do what? He needed to get his amazing life back on track.

Copyright © 2022 Callum Stanford.  All rights reserved.

Author: callumstanford

Writer, blogger, outsider, survivor.

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