Obviously, speaking in public wasn’t Jude most polished skill. He’d practiced, talked to the mirror many times, trained different facial expressions, but nothing was enough to put his heart as ease. He was anxious. Practicing only showed him how amateur he was. He even considered the idea that he wasn’t born with what it takes to speak in public.
“But you have guts!”, he encouraged himself, while rubbing his own belly. “You are a man provided with the most available bowels one could have, as you are accidentally human. There is no way talent would be more important than my your willpower!”
Jude was fidgeting while speaking to himself. He’d bit his nails, scratched his forehead, twisted his tie, clicked his tongue. He looked like a beatbox after a nervous breakdown. Until he saw Mike, who approached him with a fraternal smile.
“What’s wrong Jude? You look like you have just seen the professor.”
Jude hesitated a while before opening up. He then hugged Mike and cried on his shoulder like a girl.
*no usual notebook today.
Dec 14th, Marie
Dec 17th, Andrè
