Enough with the diversions! It's time for Part 6!
**Sorry for the delay in getting part 6 out. If you care, that is. If not, please disregard this comment.**
the interstate, and I hadn’t completely gotten the ice in the cooler completely frozen before starting my journey. I should have bought more at a quick mart along the way. Glancing at the timer I had set up on the cooler, I realized that I had only five minutes before the frozen yogurt began to lose consistency and melt. Sure, it could always be re-frozen, but doing that would cause a dramatic loss in the supple flavor and texture of the heavenly food.
I sped recklessly through downtown. Red lights flashed by in a blur of pedestrians and concrete. The only place I dared slow down was at the third stoplight before my apartment. There was always a policeman there, and I couldn’t afford to be pulled over. Precious minutes would be lost, rendering it completely impossible for me to get home in time. I waved at the lurking officer as I passed, then sped up again as soon as I was out of sight. I was going to make it in time. Nothing could stop me.
Without warning, a small squirrel jumped out into the center of the road, scampering after an acorn it had dropped. I only had a moment to react.
Professor Wilshire looked out at his class. Their eyes had long since glazed over. The ticking hands of the clock showed a mere thirteen minutes left before the class would have to be dismissed. He reached up to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but stopped when he caught sight of the sawdust clinging to his cold, clammy hand. The top of the podium had been reduced to two sheets of laminate with small splinters of wood clinging like spiders to their home, unwilling to join the others in the growing pile of shavings on the floor. After cleaning his palm on his pants, he returned to his death grip on the podium and raised his voice again.
“What could I have done? There it was, a small rodent, just trying to get by in life, chasing after its sacred acorn. Who was I to terminate that precious life early? How could any amount of frozen yogurt justify killing that poor creature? How could my life, even, be more important than the squirrel’s? Who am I to make such a decision?”
A paper airplane came from the center of the lecture hall and drifted slowly up to the front, landing a few feet short of Wilshire’s feet. A faint, defeated cry of “Nobody cares!” struggled its way out of one of the more resilient students’ throats.
The nasal, whiny wind-up came again “Nnnnnney hate this class.”
Wilshire ignored their comments and continued with his lecture.
As I said, I was driving very fast, so none of the aforementioned thoughts had a chance to enter my mind. I ran the squirrel over, leaving a small streak of fur, bones and blood on the street behind me. Seeing little value in regretting the situation right then, I drove on. I couldn’t change the past, so why dwell on it? The only thing that began to worry me was the elderly bum who jumped off the curb and, shaking his fist, ran after my car for a few yards before realizing he couldn’t hope to catch up. I had a feeling he’d find me eventually. Those animal lovers always do.
the interstate, and I hadn’t completely gotten the ice in the cooler completely frozen before starting my journey. I should have bought more at a quick mart along the way. Glancing at the timer I had set up on the cooler, I realized that I had only five minutes before the frozen yogurt began to lose consistency and melt. Sure, it could always be re-frozen, but doing that would cause a dramatic loss in the supple flavor and texture of the heavenly food.
I sped recklessly through downtown. Red lights flashed by in a blur of pedestrians and concrete. The only place I dared slow down was at the third stoplight before my apartment. There was always a policeman there, and I couldn’t afford to be pulled over. Precious minutes would be lost, rendering it completely impossible for me to get home in time. I waved at the lurking officer as I passed, then sped up again as soon as I was out of sight. I was going to make it in time. Nothing could stop me.
Without warning, a small squirrel jumped out into the center of the road, scampering after an acorn it had dropped. I only had a moment to react.
Professor Wilshire looked out at his class. Their eyes had long since glazed over. The ticking hands of the clock showed a mere thirteen minutes left before the class would have to be dismissed. He reached up to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but stopped when he caught sight of the sawdust clinging to his cold, clammy hand. The top of the podium had been reduced to two sheets of laminate with small splinters of wood clinging like spiders to their home, unwilling to join the others in the growing pile of shavings on the floor. After cleaning his palm on his pants, he returned to his death grip on the podium and raised his voice again.
“What could I have done? There it was, a small rodent, just trying to get by in life, chasing after its sacred acorn. Who was I to terminate that precious life early? How could any amount of frozen yogurt justify killing that poor creature? How could my life, even, be more important than the squirrel’s? Who am I to make such a decision?”
A paper airplane came from the center of the lecture hall and drifted slowly up to the front, landing a few feet short of Wilshire’s feet. A faint, defeated cry of “Nobody cares!” struggled its way out of one of the more resilient students’ throats.
The nasal, whiny wind-up came again “Nnnnnney hate this class.”
Wilshire ignored their comments and continued with his lecture.
As I said, I was driving very fast, so none of the aforementioned thoughts had a chance to enter my mind. I ran the squirrel over, leaving a small streak of fur, bones and blood on the street behind me. Seeing little value in regretting the situation right then, I drove on. I couldn’t change the past, so why dwell on it? The only thing that began to worry me was the elderly bum who jumped off the curb and, shaking his fist, ran after my car for a few yards before realizing he couldn’t hope to catch up. I had a feeling he’d find me eventually. Those animal lovers always do.