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Ah, yes. A stack of end-of-term coursework, a pot of coffee, and the reassuring blinking of my spam filter that I, too, can emulate the figures of those stars of artistic film that we so greatly admire. Truly, the holidays have arrived.
Miss Harris, I believe someone has sent me an unsavoury email attachment. Are you available?
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I never thought I'd see the day one of my students asked to turn in her coursework before it was due, rather than get an extension over break. I figured students like that were only a myth, told to young professors in hopes of keeping them on the payroll. Unceasing wonders, and all that.
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Magic items redistributing themselves? Little girls asking for their own? Patricia Goldberg drinking herself into oblivion? Madness.
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