III. Reckoner.

[maleficentia]

Velvet Amandine Lyon. I know you're lurking around these journals, somewhere, so don't lets continue with the charade. If any of her friends and associates feel inclined to turn her in, well, let's have it, and promptly.

Have you finally summoned up a spine and published that piece you showed me at the end of our semester together?

Comments

[scheherazading]

Hello, Professor.

To answer simply and honestly: No, I haven't.

[maleficentia]

Try again: why not?

[scheherazading]

[like her original response, this takes a while]

I don't know

It wasn't a priority at

I don't really have a good answer, sir.

[maleficentia]

You're a coward? Insecure? No faith in your own abilities? Try one of those on for size.

Lyon, I've been teaching for a few years now. I only let fifteen students into my class each semester. If I'm very lucky, one of them might produce a piece of writing that doesn't make me want to stab myself with my own pen. If I'm very, very lucky, one of them might force something out of themselves that is, against all odds, good. You were that student at Hunter. You have a gift.

[scheherazading]

Thank you.

[maleficentia]

That wasn't a compliment, girl. I was stating a fact.