Mike didn’t know if he wanted to be lazy, or frenzied on this last day of 2010. Kelly, not near. He thought about what wine to open tonight, but then thought, “What if I do something completely out of character, and not drink anything?” He wanted to see how, if, his own character would change. He wanted this last session of the year to be unpolluted, clear, balanced. Moments ago, he received a call from a student, wondering why she didn’t pass. “Was it my research paper?” she asked. Mike told her it was partially that, but more so the actuality that she missed over ten classes. He wouldn’t miss teaching, at least not in the Developmental capacity. He thought of his class at Stanford; be it a Fiction seminar, Creative Writing, non-fiction, journaling. He still wanted that classRoom on the Palo Alto campus. Maybe he’d be in one of the 2011 Class Schedules. He felt himself tremor, inner-gallops. Then, Kelly.