My English professor has been on my case about enrolling in a literature course at the university level.
She thinks I should take a writing class because my writing is so good, but I had such a hard time fitting in when I first started at this school a year ago.
Like any self-respecting modern youth, I kept to myself and avoided being the odd one out at all costs. Our professor once asked us to compose a short story. I was hoping she would give us a topic to write about, but instead she gave us free reign. The point was to see how far we’ve come as writers. Well, I deliberated over the question and considered expanding my story to include more details from my time at a contemporary school. After reviewing our papers, she requested that I remain after class to discuss the possibility of working as a writer. Since then, my English teacher and I have become close friends, and I have even visited her home for extra instruction. She is a teacher at our institution, and her husband is an HVAC technician. My colleague and I were once in a conversation with an HVAC technician who explained that he had always been interested in the field but had been at a loss as to what to do with his life once he finished private school. His father had worked as a plumber and knew a few HVAC technicians. My professor’s spouse went on to tell me that he had done some temporary work for one of these companies, and that his experience there had convinced him to pursue a career in HVAC as well. For my professor, I think I’ll also write that up as a short story.