• emkate_utter

Day one: Mythos

Updated: Aug 6, 2019

An Extract:

Another dull, sun-less day. Another day - another term - of Ds, no doubt. Dull. Dulcet. Dour.

These were the words he associated with his students. Teenagers. They were all the same. All blue hair - despite the dress code - and untucked shirts. They would learn. He would try to teach them new words. Rigour. Logic. Fidelity.

If only he could find a way to ignite them! As he had been, in university, by the prospect - the prospect of prospects! The sun gleaming over the quad. The promise of promise. The towers and turrets, monumental in their stature - high up there, looking over the many inquiring minds of their university students.

Alas. Out the window of his teacher’s dormitory, his belongings strewn about the room (he had not yet unpacked from the summer holidays) the sky was flat. The air was clammy. He had put together his curriculum but he still was not ready. His mind rested, momentarily, on the summer fling that had quite recently soured. His left eye twitched behind his glasses.

He ran a brush through his dark hair, pulled on a pair of light slacks, and tucked his white short-sleeved collared shirt in. Top button done up. Tie on. It was… mauve… his mother had picked it out for him.

On the stairs outside his room he listened carefully for the sound of any early risers. There were none, of course. Teenagers do not rise before they have to. He knew this, having been one, though that felt like a very long time ago. In truth, it was not so long ago. He was just twenty-eight and in his second year of teaching. He liked to think that a lot of life had happened in those ten years since he was in school. Liked to tell it to people, too. First and foremost what had happened was his education. His enlightenment.

He had not been quick to academia in school, was not what you’d have called a nerd or a ‘brainiac.’ He hadn’t excelled in anything in particular - not sports either. But a friend of his had dragged him along to the debate club, and arguing with people was something he seemed - if not to be good at - then to enjoy.