Lecture Hall Flows

Ron Koppelberger

Lecture Hall Flows

The balance of endless fires branding knowledge and illusions of knowledge disturbed the doldrums of the students as a hush fell over the lecture hall. The professor paused. Nell Buckler imagined the promise of lunch and an afternoon smoke, a satisfying periphery of smoke whirling and testing his addiction, full belly, cupcakes and a bologna sandwich, cool sips of vanilla cola and an amen to the mid point cut in an eight year lesson plan.
The professor rambled on with the remains of a lesson on incarnate manifestations; Nell had taken the course, metaphysical doctrine, on a whim, the notion that a class on ghosts and ghoulies would be an easy three credits had been the essence of his motivation.
The professor stood beneath the bright yellow fluorescents near an ancient wood scared podium. The lights in the auditorium were dim, flickering and the current flowed to the lights above the professor in ample supply, giving him an ethereal glow.
“………..this leads us to the incarnation of demons.” the professor explained. Suddenly transformed, Nell scratched the scales on the back of his hands and belched a great roaring gout of blood, “ darn it,…..” he said as he clawed at the stain on his vest, “what a mess.” Distant in contemplation he thought about the lecture hall flow and the manifestation of tobacco dreams and the cool dry burn of a drag. The students screamed and the professor pulled the fire alarm, running with flailing arms and wobbly legs. Nell sighed and took out his lunch bag, the bologna sandwich fit neatly into his mouth as something akin to coal smoke poured from his nose. Oblivious, Nell thought, Wonder if I can score a date with that cute redhead in physics class as the beating wings of eternity shaped the lesson plan.