Dark Morning

I got out of bed this morning with a vague sense of foreboding.

Maybe it was just that I seem to have slept on my shoulder wrong. Even after 400mg of ibuprofen, it still hurts.

Despite impenetrably thick fog on the roads this morning, I avoided accidents, even though there were places where I couldn't see the traffic lights until I was within half a block of them. 'The fog is burning off,' burbled the cheerful voice on the radio. Burning off? In Florida, maybe.

I pulled into the parking lot at the same time as the Discipline Honcho. He emerged from his vehicle with a sledgehammer. 'I'm tired of writing detentions,' he said.

In the faculty room, one of my colleagues was talking about the accident on Rt 32 which interfered with her commute yesterday morning -- apparently two vehicles were dragracing. Both drivers were killed and a third person is in critical condition at Shock-Trauma. 'Darwinism in action,' I muttered.

Another colleague, the Former Spook, grinned. 'You're such a cynic.'

Why yes. Yes I am.

'The trouble with people like you,' the Former Spook continued, 'is that you still give a damn.'

That would be it.

verso - recto