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.