It happened in the middle of medieval history class. The professor was excitedly waving his hands about to Rome, Byzantium, and Charlemagne, like a spellbound maestro gripped by the harmonies and percussions of a passionate symphony. The students were silently filtering his enthusiasm for noteworthy facts. She sat slumped in her second row seat, having drifted away from the balding professor's words five minutes ago. Thinking of nothing, her bored gaze settled on the sluggish pimply blonde sitting in front of her. And a violent vision of smashing a thick slab of glass on that blonde head startled her to attention.
She wondered what that was all about.