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Forum » HYPERTEXT NOVEL » Our Story » Primary thread: Professor of Literature (Poetry and Prose rule his mind)
Primary thread: Professor of Literature
TeacherDate: Wednesday, 10.11.2010, 02:07 | Message # 1
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8:30a.m. Students are sitting and waiting for the class of Professor O'Neal. He came into the classroom. Grey suit, black shirt and tie, varnish shoes. He likes to wear good clothes. He is about 40 years old, but already has a silver forelock. He is absolutely crazy about literature. Some teachers in the University say that Literature is the name of his second wife. Of course, they are jocking, but every joke has an element of truth. So, David O'Neal begins his class.

In Vino Veritas...
 
AsyaDate: Wednesday, 10.11.2010, 03:18 | Message # 2
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And finishes. And begins another one. And it also comes to its end. And then begins the next one. And then... And again... And again...
And everything would have gone smoothly if that day the Professor didn't stop. Just stopped. Stopping all the mechanism of his life. You know, one tiny thought is able to stop the time. And this thought was "Why is everything so banal? I do need some changes".
And he went home with this thought in his head. He got obsessed with it. So obsessed that he even didn't notice the car turning from the corner of that street. The driver wasn't attentive either.
 
8davids8Date: Friday, 12.11.2010, 00:34 | Message # 3
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Black and white sedan rushed just by his nose, the driver seemed not even to notice him. The brakes squealed loudly making Mr. O'Neal look at the car again. It stopped just by the Pallazio Hotel. A man in the car get out banging the door heavily. Then he disappeared in the doorway...
It was still daylight when he came home to his small flat in downtown. Leaving his keys on the counter in the hallway, he was almost fallen out of step by a grey bloodhound of his. "Dear, my, stop it, I beg you, let me at least take my shoes off!", he said.
In a while he entered the kitchen, the dog following at his heels. Looked out of the window seeing actually nothing new around him. The same spleen stroke him just like this afternoon. "I have to read something", he said to himself.
So, he went to the hall, contemplated a small bookcase for a while and chose his favourite Shelly. He sat in the chair and began to read. He didn't notice it getting dark in the room. Neither did he notice him falling asleep.
The next thing he remembered was his phone ringing. Who can it be?

- Yes?
- Professor O'Neil? It's Alice, do you remember me?
- Yes, my dear, why are calling me?
- I need your help just right now. Badly. Come to the Ceaser's. It's on the 23rd street, I guess you know.
- But what's...
- No more words, just come. Please, I beg you!...

He wanted to object about the time but the only answer to him would have been long beeps. So he sighed, took his leather coat on, and went out into the night streets of the city...

 
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