The sun rose a blazing orange ball through the gray mist over the hill. Black dendritic shadows of rhododendrons pirouetted in a wild dance as a murder of crows pecked methodically at the detritus of some abandoned breakfast, unholy miners searching for a vein in cracked and buckled tarmac.
The Professor looked out the window and drank coffee from a chipped blue enamel mug. The coffee was hot and good. The Department Head walked by.
Morning.
Morning.
You entered your first week attendance?
No I haven’t.
Well.
Well.
I reckon you might. Be hell to pay with the Registrar.
Well. I will.
All right.
The Professor’s hands danced over the laptop and in one smooth and practiced motion entered the attendance values with a mass update and it was beautiful and it was terrible at the same time, for it bore the weight of all attendance and financial aid and indeed the souls of all the people that lived and died and those yet to come.
It’s done.
The Professor closed the laptop and pushed back the swivel chair and rose to join the Department Head. They walked down the hallway toward the brightening sky saying nothing, for the heads had all been counted and now there was nothing to say.
