Ordinary Afternoons by Umer Ali

Sitting in the back,
I see sunlight shining on the scratches of old desks.
And the clock above
moving with the speed of
a dying star.
I look outside the window,
at the empty basketball court,
it looks like it’s waiting for the crowd it’ll receive after school.
The crowd will fill the court with voices,
And it will be treated like,
a missed shot is the end of the world.
The kid beside me
calculates scholarships.
And the kid in front of me
draws cars in the margins of his notes.
And just like that
I watch another day
Become a memory.
The idea of future seems scary,
And in university brochures or in conversations at dinner.
I keep being reminded of the future.
But I just nod when they speak.
And pretend that I understand.
Because to me the future feels distant.
Just like the test I swore I would study for from tomorrow .
When the bell finally rings,
The hallways flood onto the basketball court.
And now,

The world belongs to us again.
And among,
worn-out sneakers, cracked courts,
and group chats that refuse to sleep.
A girl passes in the hallway.
Passes a brief smile
before she disappears
into the crowd.
And somehow,
It makes the afternoon feel different.
At sixteen,
small things arrive
with the weight of galaxies.
I feel that life
is waiting just ahead.
As if it hasn’t already started.
As if these hallways,
these friends,
these ordinary afternoons
aren’t the story itself.