Another piece worthy of your time

A.I. Marin's Blog

We had been warned. The stories about Professor Graves made us afraid. I sat down where I usually did: left corner of the room. We’ve been told to get to class on time. If we came to Graves’s class after he shut the door he would publicly humiliate us and kick us out. That word got around fast –for once everyone in the class arrived fifteen minutes early. We waited in complete silence seated.

He walked in rushing to his desk: a middle aged man. Perhaps he was 60; there was no way to tell. His hair was white with dark roots. He had his round glasses on and a cup of coffee from the College cafeteria in his right hand. In the other he carried papers.

“Hand these out will you” he told Natasha. We had always passed the papers on, Natasha simply followed habit.

“Would it really bother…

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