Burning

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I sink down in my seat so far that my chin is nearly level with the desk and stare at the off-white tiles flecked with color, the kind that are supposed to hide how dirty they are. I know that everyone looking at me. My face is on fire, I can feel it turning red as I try to disappear by sheer willpower. They call this blushing. I call it burning.
Give a man a fish, he'll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish, he'll eat for a lifetime. Talk to a hungry man about fish, and you're a psychologist.




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This is pretty good, but it's a bit of a run-on. Try breaking these sentences down a bit with commas or by switching them up and you'll have a better flow. Other than that, I think this is pretty solid. I like the way you concluded it, there was almost an edge to the words, and it had a lot of personality.
Keep writing,
StoryWeaver




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It was so short! I liked it a lot, but I wish you had gone into more detail of why the character was blushing/burning. It would have been interesting to find out. The description was really good though; I know exactly what you're talking about.
I think you should break down the sentences a little bit more. It was kind of hard for me to read because they kept going and going.
Overall, I really liked it.



Everything has to be taken on trust; truth is only that which is taken to be true. It's the currency of living. There may be nothing behind it, but it doesn't make any difference so long as it is honoured. One acts on assumptions. What do you assume?
— Player (Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead by Tom Stoppard)