The room was more or less crowded — an ambiguous shifting seminar…like the post office. Professor Jonesborough was lecturing on the inverted pyramid as the backbone of newspaper.

“Your assignment…ahemmm, is to write an article that demonstrates this technique. And I want to be pulled in — knowing all the big facts in that first paragraph.”

Class was almost over — students were shifting in their seats. Dr. J mock glanced around the room for questions. Sasha Pinstripe jumped up in the front row. She smoothed her pants, brushed back her frosted bangs, and smiled heartily.

“What should we write…about? I mean, that’s totally vague, right?” She looked behind her for reassurance. Chairs legs, desk arms squeaked — more whispers.

“Surely you can bother your imagination for a few minutes,” quipped Dr. Jonesborough.

Sasha was crushed, but this time she had back-up. Taylor Raemaker called out above the monstrous velcro rip.

“HOW MANY WOOORDS?!” she wailed. Her lips hung nearly to the floor — her brow knotted with madness.

“That is entirely up to you, Miss Raemaker.” He spoke with disgust into his lapel mic; he smirked at his incredible name recall of a 200 student roster.

A few students were already headed out the door. It slammed open and shut behind them.

“If nobody else…”

“THIS ISN’T MENTIONED ON THE SYLLABUS!”

“How many POINTS is this worth?”

“CAN you give us examples from LAST YEAR?!”

Dr. J dropped his mic on the floor, picked up his briefcase, and walked out the emergency exit. The parasites had caused — he noted — an unsafe rise in his heart rate and blood pressure. The noonday sun hurt his eyes; he saw spots. Plopping down on the nearest bench, he wondered if he and education would die in the same year.