When I attempted to knock on the door, the teacher uttered, "Come in." Then: "Lyric, you are five minutes late. You have failed once again to turn in ...our assignment this Monday; you are not a punctual person either?" His voice was so serene, so caring, yet stern. I was only five minutes late since my other class was 15 minutes away from his office. His t-shirt of the day was a face of "Che Guevara," wearing his sandals, his starched khakis embraced his skin, bronze skin, beautiful with a. He was becoming irritated. He moved through the house turning on lights, listening for the sound, trying to identify from whence it issued. But it seemed omnidirectional. He assumed a plains Indian crouch and moved his head slowly from side to side using the space between his ears as the base of a vector triangle and the sound came again. But from whence it came he knew not. Now that the problem had assumed more serious proportions Patrick thought he might as well have a drink. He went into the. More

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