I have exactly 8 minutes until 'they' arrive, the 'they' that have been plaguing my last moments of freedom this past week. They will be loud, and I love the quietness surrounding me right now; they will be full of questions, and I have relished a summer without being an authority on anything other than what is a quality cigar or pub. No, they will be interested in due dates for homework, the proper procedure for going to the restroom (hopefully they have the mechanics down by the time they get to my class, but I find that bathroom breaks are a major source of intrigue for school children), ....
3 minutes....I'm a slow thinker. I'm reminded of Marlowe's Dr. Faustus, because it closes brilliantly with the last 24 hours of his life prior to be taken by the devil being swept away in the proverbial "blink of an eye". He keeps trying to philosophize his situation, thinking it through, and the time keeps slipping through his fingers, and finally....
....there's the bell (seriously, I could not have timed that better). In the spirit of Faustus, it would be unfair for me to complete my thoughts right now; instead, I will sign off and do my job...similar to being plunged into Hell, right?
3 minutes....I'm a slow thinker. I'm reminded of Marlowe's Dr. Faustus, because it closes brilliantly with the last 24 hours of his life prior to be taken by the devil being swept away in the proverbial "blink of an eye". He keeps trying to philosophize his situation, thinking it through, and the time keeps slipping through his fingers, and finally....
....there's the bell (seriously, I could not have timed that better). In the spirit of Faustus, it would be unfair for me to complete my thoughts right now; instead, I will sign off and do my job...similar to being plunged into Hell, right?
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