I just yawned so hard that my whole jaw nearly fell off and bounced from my lap and onto the floor where it would have laid trembling and twitching. I’d probably be trembling and twitching too. After a few minutes, you would have walked in and seen it there, my tongue flopping around on the floor like a fish out of water, gasping for air, slowly drowning in a shallow pool of its own saliva. Of course we’d both be speechless, I for obvious reasons, and we’d remain there motionless for a little longer, overcome by the wet slapping sound of my tongue thwacking the floor and watching the dying convulsions of my jaw until one of us gathered the nerve to speak up.

Someone else would hear all the commotion you were making and they’d burst into the room in a cloud of dust and broken words only to turn away in disgust with both hands clasped tightly over their mouth, as if their jaw were about to fall off.

I’d get up calmly and wait for my jaw to go slack before picking it up off the ground. Grasping it firmly by the chin I’d drop it into a plastic Ziploc baggie, already half full with a handful of Cheerios and granola crumbs-and I’d pack it all up and head off for class. I’d arrive with a big wet sloppy smile plastered all over my face but no one would get it, not one single person. It'd make no difference to me. And I probably wouldn't be able to stop laughing anyways.