The Visiting Professor
You asked the forbidden question. The visiting professor turned pale and the bullies in the class leaned forward, smelling fear. When the visiting professor spoke, his voice traveled no more than an inch from his mouth. No echoes lived in the mountains of his home. You asked the forbidden question and all we were lost and dizzy. The amazing scent of you, spring dew on lilacs, filled the room. First, we gave you glowing expressions, our eyes infatuate. Second, we laughed the fond laughs of lovers. Third, we laughed with violence. Purple faces, raw throats, cracked ribs. An icy mist moved among us. You asked the forbidden question. The professor in his suit of midnight blue threaded with gold whispered. And we knew the cold perfume of you! We breathed you in with the mist. You curled in our lungs—we were happy to share. We did not exhale.
— Basil Cartryte
2025-10-05
Halloween Day 5
A blog by Bedrieger Junction's Slant of Light writing group