academia i
Meet with Prof. Barnes in the third floor offices of Schuster. Talks about making up the midterm grade. Asks about my mother.
I frown. Shake my head. Then try to smile. It’s difficult to talk about it, he can tell.
The Lit professor tells me not to kill my main characters.
I didn’t think this was a writing class.
“Why?” I ask.
He says, “It’s lazy writing.”
This is something he’s been told. Sure. Information passes down.
“Why?” I ask again. Young and stubborn.
Angry at the world. Angry at myself.
“It’s what I’ve always been told. The age old adage. Too easy a way to resolve conflict.”
“There’s nothing easy about killing,” I tell him.
And I think it scares him a little.
I can leave satisfied.