the experiment

The word experiment is something I can’t forget because I have a scar in my right wrist because of it. I didn’t like doing experiments in school. A few years ago, I would not have burned my skin if only my experiment partner reported for school and translated the Japanese text to me. Instead, he just decided one day he’d go back to his hometown and leave me hanging. I was a foreign student and my Japanese language skills were inadequate. Mixed with my clumsiness, I was a disaster waiting to happen in the chem lab. Oh, memories I’d really love to forget! The next school year, when we were done with acids and incomprehensible chemical symbols, it was announced that our next experiment would be computer hardware. My teacher formed groups of three or four of my Japanese classmates first then distributed the foreign student’s names randomly. He wrote my name below a random group. There were three of us who will be doing the experiment. After two we...