Instead of listening to him rave about his favorite poet, John Ashbury, he and I had escaped to his office. This imaginary office had a large dark woo...en desk, where he sat in the same outfit from before. He had a hand on his chin, a stern expression on his face. “Do you know why I called you, Miss Nicholson?” he asked. I shook my head. “No, sir.” “I noticed you weren't paying attention in class today.” I dropped my head and held my hands behind my back. “I'm sorry, sir.” “That is a serious. I was very weak but did give it an effort. I was slightlyembarrassed by my lack of strength where Kris was really going at it hardto maintain his nice body for the ladies as he called it.At the dorm after the workout, I looked over my scribbled notes to beginwriting down my instincts and reactions to the painting. I was aperfectionist with my studies and labored over making it sound intelligent.After that, I opened my books and read a few chapters to be on top ofthings for the coming days of. More

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