Thursday, April 16, 2009

The Taste of Non-sweeetness

Tonight's forecast calls for more sourness.

Sourness does not speak before the lesson.

(Oh joy to see you too.)

Fidgets, fumbles. I am about seven feet away so that the vortex might not reach me.

There is some progress, some pieces remain a tangle of notes. With as much objectivity that I can muster, I state that some improvement has taken place.

(Is anyone uncomfortable here? We are not here in truth.)

She lies again. I counter with what the department head said she said. She weasels.

Then more going through the motions. I say that class is over.

Without a sound, she leaves.

Sourness goes with her.

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