Fisher 2hr Gothic
“You didn’t have to buy your textbook.” The lecturer said.
“You can find your textbook and readings in Fisher’s 2 hr section” She said.
Brilliant, you think. You can have your cake and eat it too. You can just do your readings after class and have a couple of extra hundred bucks for food.
A couple of weeks into your first semester you decide it’s time you did some of those readings.
A blast of arctic air conditioning slaps goosebumps onto your skin, your largest organ roasting red only moments before in end of summer Sydney sun. Scrawled in red marker on butcher’s paper plastered onto the columns at the entrance of this big brown block of a building you decipher a warning.
2HR SECTION IS A LIE.
You proceed regardless, Socialist Alternative has built up your tolerance for paranoia.
You squint at the shelves. 697.9 182… 688.9 185… Glancing upwards to the left, then right, and eventually in a tightening spiral of fear and confusion.
You stifle a shriek of frustration.
There, there in the space between 697.9 184 and 697.9 186 is the void of where your future, your promise should lay, once lay.
But right now, it’s gone.
You fling your body back to your laptop. F5 F5 F5. The rainbow wheel of doom spins its gambling of your fortunes. Your chair, all leather and wood and aged scholastic bitterness, squeaks and grumbles.
DUE 11.03.16 3:56pm
You collapsed, defeated.
Another better and more noble had conquered where you had missed your chance.
The tap tap tap of keyboards and low murmurs of librarians reverberate through and around the shelves which hold hundreds of volumes of all the tomes you do not seek.
With a final sigh of resignation, you dig into your bag for your wallet and make your way towards co-op.
