In the echoing halls of third grade,
he sits,
a nine-year-old lad,
master of the silent symphony,
the classroom's perpetual farter.
His seat,
a throne of hidden thunder,
each release a stealthy gust,
an unseen hand
that wafts through the air,
invisible yet undeniable.
The girl down the aisle,
her eyes wide with wonder,
a scientist in the making,
studies his every move,
curiosity alive in her gaze,
as if decoding...
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