The looming clouds didn’t seem to bother him. He stood by the lamppost, his puffy navy blue coat hanging from his shoulders, his eyes blinking slowly behind the round glasses. A gasp of wind blew up the avenue, catching up scraps of paper and sending them wisping through the air. His hair stood on end. The cars shook and shivered in the cold; their headlines stared out into the quickly-falling dusk. He still stood.

He stood still as a class of freshmen let out from the building behind him, swarming the sidewalk, jostling and joking in oblivion. He stood still as a homeless man lurched past him; the man shook his gnarled locks and glanced only once at the stubborn academic. It was over now; what was there to be stubborn about anymore? He stood still as the bus slowed and swayed close to the curb. The doors wheezed open, and the man stepped stiffly onto the bus. The doors clanged behind him; the bus jerked forward, and, without a glance backward, he rode away for the last time.

One thought on “Professor

  1. Rose says:

    And it’s goodbye, Mr. Chips.

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