Chalkboard

I see a green chalkboard covered with dusty, yellow chalk. When you attempt to wipe the smooth chalk off, it turns whitish yellow. The smell of the chalk is like a potent dust. The touch of the green chalkboard is rough with powder. It’s about as long as one of my arms. So really it’s four of my two and a half foot arms, put into a square shape. This chalkboard is a graphing chalkboard; it has thousands of one-inch squares on it. Then there is an x and a y-axis. The yellow chalk dust makes two hand drawn lines through the y-axis, then the x-axis. This line is an increasing ray. Two parabolas made of chalk also cover this forest green chalkboard. As I sit here starring out into space at the chalkboard, I think of how it smells and feels. The chalk should be gone, the pukeish, yellow color of it clashes with the dark, jungle green of the chalkboard. I am tempted to wipe it off, but what about the fuzzy feeling? It will get on my hands and they aren’t a chalkboard! I leave the chalkboard be, as my gaze wanders to another inanimate object.