Novel & Cerita Funny Things To Write On Whiteboard

Ride a bike somewhere far. The more I wrote, the more I felt this weird kind of joy in me. Like maybe, just maybe, things could be okay. 41. Learn to play an instrument. 42. Go camping. 43. Dance in the rain. 44. Visit an amusement park. 45. Make a vision board. 46. Send a message in a bottle. 47. Watch a sunrise and sunset in the same day. 48. Try a food I can’t pronounce. 49. Write a poem. 50. Have a "yes" day.

“You don’t even—” “Whiteboard,” I repeated. “Or I swear on every god in this overpriced building, I will never divorce you. I’ll haunt you like emotional glue.” A flicker. The tiniest amused twitch at the corner of his mouth. He pressed the intercom. “Bring a mobile whiteboard to my office. Now.” Thirty seconds later, someone rolled in a giant whiteboard like they were delivering a bomb. I grabbed the markers, red, green, and black and started drawing, ignoring the complex financial jargons.

“You have earned yourself another Friday afternoon with me.” I groan, slumping back in my seat, but not before catching one last glimpse of Luca’s infuriating, punchable grin. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Whit,” I mutter, gripping the sides of my desk, its surface littered with cursive doodles. Most of them are mine—cute animals and blossoming flowers sketched in colored ink, an attempt to pass the time in the endless slog of boredom.

“So, how do I help Zara with this?” “Bigger papers, so she has more room to draw her pictures.” He sounds proud of his idea. How does he go from being so wise to being so dumb in a single sentence? Bigger papers. I pace around the room, thinking about it. Actually, he’s right. I call Alyssa and ask her to have a large whiteboard on wheels delivered to the penthouse first thing in the morning. She tells me it’s an odd request, but she will see what she can do. I look around the room again and tell her to make it two whiteboards and colorful dry erase markers, too.

Which was pretty pathetic, if someone asked me. I sighed as I kept sketching in the margins of my notes from class. I drew little characters to act out scenes from world history we’d already learned about. I drew a bobblehead of Clint with his tongue hanging out and his eyes crossed. I smiled as I made a little speech bubble. I giggled as I wrote out all sorts of jokes that made him look like the knuckle-dragging, drooling idiot he was. Then the detention teacher shushed me.

No door I need to reach. So I sit there and stare at the whiteboard at the front of the room. The writing on it is blurry. I squint slightly, trying to focus, but the letters refuse to become clear. They stay soft and smudged, like my brain refuses to remember them. After a moment I stop trying. When I was actually in class, I never paid attention to the board anyway. I usually zoned out halfway through the lesson. So why would my brain bother remembering anything the teacher wrote there?

Beside him were lemon trees that looked like diseased broccoli. Gabby stood wearing a crown larger than her entire body. Al stood on the other side with his whale shark, shaped like a blue potato courtesy of my artistic crimes. I moved. Rafael’s hand was faster. His fingers caught one edge of the paper just as I grabbed the other. The drawing stopped between us. “Let go,” I said. His eyes dropped to the picture. “Rafa Lemon,” he read. “Children spell all kinds of things. Last week they wrote fuck on a birthday card because they thought it said duck.”

How could he be ready to do anything to that effect? I go to the whiteboard and move it from its place near the divider, turning on the lights that I inserted at the top and take the white marker. My breathing is encouraged. I try to control myself, inhale quietly, but the more I try, the less I can do it. The memory of how I treated Bladimir hits me with power and severity.

Komportable siyang nakaupo sa sofa habang abala naman sa pagsusulat sa isang white board si Lucas. "A lot of beautiful things come with a price... Even those that came from dirty money," he replied with a smirk as he scribbled some more. "So nanakawin natin 'to sa isang auction? Saan ba 'yun gaganapin?" tanong ng dalaga.

Lumabas kami ng iilang kasama sa club para kunin ang natitirang materials para sa ginagawa. The board was finished so we already opened it for the students. May iilan nang naglalagay ng sticky notes at kung anu-ano sa pin board. It was not small yet not big also, enough to accommodate small papers. Natatagalan kami sa wall painting kahit marami-rami naman kami. It was intricate and we took the designs carefully. Malaki iyon at hindi lang naman modern art ang ginagawa namin. It was a mixture of old-traditional art and the modern art. May iba't-ibang konsepto ang pinipinta.