Frustration Sam had a headache. He pinched his nose and screwed up his eyes. The noise in the room was too loud for him to think. He had a neck ache. He rubbed the back of his neck and bent his head towards the table. His uneaten food sat on the plate a few inches from his nose. If you could even call it food. It wasn't helping. He got up and dumped his plate on a tray by the hatch. He felt only one pair of eyes on him as he stalked from the room. He didn't return their gaze. Outside in the corridor it was cooler, but the noise still leaked through the canteen doors. He quickened his pace, turning up the collar of his coat and ducking his head, his hands firmly in his pockets. This whole place irritated him. Despite the modern look, the paint was peeling where the wall joined the ceiling, obviously too high for the caretaker to reach, and too inconspicuous for him to bother to try. Nobody would notice. Sam noticed. He headed out of the front doors and into the fresh air. It felt slightly less claustrophobic out here. But the gravel car park was too full, and there were chips in the front step. Not big enough to cause somebody to trip. But big enough to enhance the tatty exterior of the high school. He headed through the car park and swiped his pass at the gate. It didn't resist his leaving. That was him, clocking out for the day.
