Write as you please, in six minutes, like a breeze.
They make it sound so easy, like it is as easy as taking a bath or brushing your hair. Omitting the fact that it is actually quite challenging, a formidable task, failing to mention the fire details.
Then again, I guess, to an elderly person or someone who is physically impaired, bathing and brushing might be considered challenging too.
So I am sitting here, in this large, airy room, surrounded by other nervous candidates, trying to recall everything that I have learned over the past six moths, endeavouring to capture in coherent sentences the very essence of the thing.
What was it I was supposed to remember? What was it we were taught? What were the specifics that I was, under no circumstances, supposed to forget? Hmmm. I am struggling, a lot.
I glance around at my peers, some old, some young. They are all beavering away, much more intently than I would like. I start to worry that I am the only one who has gone completely blank, the only one who will, in a week or so, receive back a pamphlet of pages covered in red.
I press my pen to the page and will my hand into action. I coax my brain to