Wings

Different Eyes

It was windy earlier that morning on her way to class. She remembered it because for an April day in Florida, it was very cold. It was a cold she wasn't used to being born and raised right underneath the sun all her life.

She remembered it because she liked it.

She went into her class, Creative Writing, and sat down at a desk near the window. She peered outside over the campus courtyard and stared at the emptiness. Southern was a ghost town at 7:30 in the morning.

She quickly shot up and turned her attention to the book bag on the floor beside her. She unzipped it and reached inside, pulling out a small note book wrapped in brown leather. Phoenix.

She set the pad on her desktop gently and opened it, a black ink pin already hiding in the inside binding, awaiting its instructions.

She picked it up graciously and clicked down, adjusting it in her hand and then placing it on the blank piece of white paper in front of her:

Southern is a ghost town at 7:30 in the morning

I know, I can see them through the fog

Exercising their right to haunt

Their freedoms to stalk

But doing it when the rest of the world is still asleep

When there is a blanket of white mist to hide them from the living

Protecting them from fear of persecution

Knowing that the one thing humans hate more than the dead

Is the morning

She stopped when the door opened, shutting her notebook closed as if she had something to hide.

Professor Bates walked in and smiled when he saw her "You're early." He said as he went over to his desk and placed his briefcase on top of it "Like always."

She chuckled and nodded. She was always early. She was up at 6 everyday even if she didn't have anything to do for hours. She enjoyed the mornings, things were quieter, the weight around her was easier to carry.

She kept her head down but could still see him in her peripheral, taking off his jacket and draping it over his chair "It was chilly this morning. Pretty weird, huh?" he walked around the desk and sat on the edge of it, crossing his arms over his chest.

She nodded again "Yeah." She kept her head down.

"Lauren..." he said causing her to finally look up. She didn't know what it was about the look she gave him but his expression quickly turned solemn. He knew something was wrong but did not push. He stood up and made his way over to her, arms still folded across his chest. He freed one to point at the notebook on her desk, poorly guarded by her hands "What were you writing, before I came in?" he asked as he stopped in front of her, a few feet away as to not make things uncomfortable. Things were already very uncomfortable.

Lauren shook her head "Nothing." Her voice was small, barely a whisper.

"Every Thursday morning for the last four weeks I've come in here a half and hour early and you are already here, sitting at this desk, with that notebook and ink pen in front of you. You don't use it in my class so the question becomes what do you use it for?" He raised a hairy, gray eyebrow at her and Lauren chuckled.

"It...really is nothing, Dr. Bates. Just...personal stuff."

He didn't retreat "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued, it's the writer in me." He stood in front of her for another moment before returning to his desk. He opened the briefcase and pulled out a sheet of paper. He walked back over to Lauren and handed it to her "I figured you would be here this morning so I thought I'd give you this."