They always knew when she was coming by the muffled—to the point o’ sounding alien—sound o’ her footsteps going up the stairs to the door.

The door opened. None understood how, for no one had e’er seen her lift her sleeves, nor could she have kicked it open due to the softness o’ its opening & the way they could clearly see the knob turn.

They stared @ the buttons @ the top o’ her coat—the closest to a head she had—as she stepped to the center & slowly revolved toward them.

That was when they always felt the ideas slipping into their minds. They knew o’ no way to stop them; indeed, they always felt their will to reject them eased, too—a’least till class adjourns.


Overcoat, staircase, teaching