“Connect. To connect with others, that’s all that we want.” Dr. Sussman looked out at his students. They were a wave of blues and greys, like an abstract painting across the auditorium. He had their undivided attention.
Striking in his white suit and grey hair, he smiled as they hung on his every word. It made him feel good to be so respected. He picked up the newspaper on his desk, pointing to the main article on the front page. “This is a perfect example of what happens when we don’t connect and communicate.”
He felt his voice rising in frustration and cleared his throat before continuing.
“We lose something of ourselves when we are alone.” He put the paper down, his hands trembling as his fingers touched the headline, Asylum for the St. Thomas U Killer. He stared at the words until he realized that someone was speaking.
He looked up. “Yes, Carolyn?” he asked, pointing to the young woman whose rotting form had taken on a soft gray hue. The colour looked nice against her blue uniform. He listened intently, but before he could answer, a voice interrupted his lecture.
“Time for some fresh air, professor.” the young orderly said, entering his room with a wheelchair. He helped the professor sit down, then tidied up the articles on the table next to his bed. “Organizing your notes again? Well, it’s good to keep busy.” The professor looked at the boy, who had the same grey skin as his students.
He could hear his colleagues as they walked. “Murderer. Sicko. Poor kids.” They were jealous and didn’t understand. All he wanted was for his students to appreciate him, and now they did.
He smiled as they exited the hall. “Class dismissed,” he said as the courtyard door opened.
