rshort1202

I’m walking into a classroom from its door to the outside. Nai’a from work is behind me, but not quite close enough for me to hold the door, so I don’t. Inside, it is completely empty save for the teacher, making me wonder if I’m in the wrong room or here at the wrong time. More people now show up. It seems like this is a final - we have to write a five page paper. I had only taken one page out at first. I take out more and fold and take off the perforated edges. I decide to write about a teenaged boy on a boat and a shark, making up the plot as I go. I sketch the boat in some waves (simple squiggly lines) and the shark on a page off to the side. I was going to have the shark attack the boy, but then want the guy's dad to throw him to the shark in a twist ending. In my mind, it’d be the second time the dad has done this.

I am in some school building (not sure if it is a college or not) with Melissa. We’re in a fairly long line to get into a classroom. The place seems large and somewhat sterile. There seems to be a man who is overseeing this line filtering into the room. We’re all seated now in rows of chairs - there are no desks. I see how closely we are all seated, us 20-30, and wonder about the virus. I put on a surgical mask and notice only about one other guy with one on. I’m doing it party out of consideration and I think mostly to protect myself. I notice Melissa doesn’t wear one and I can’t tell if she thinks adversely or neutrally about mine. I wonder about the efficacy of it.