Tomorrow is Tuesday, October 30. Anna teaches Comp 101 at 10:00. Anna won't see her students until next Tuesday because she's going back to Iowa and cancelled classes on Thursday. Anna loves (most of) her students and feels guilty for not making them popcorn balls for Halloween like she had planned on doing. Life got in the way...again. It's 2am and Anna knows that if she shows up to class tomorrow without Halloween candy, she'll regret it. The students deserve it. Anna is stressed.
A lightbulb--as clear as a block-lettered, glowing beacon in the night--appears in Anna's mind:
She seems to remember that it's open 24-hours-a-day. She cannot remember the last time she was there, but desperate times...
Anna gets into her car with Loyal Meg riding shotgun (and Loyal Meg's camera) with vigor and purpose. "Those kids deserve a nice treat! They worked so hard on the Explanatory Syntheses!" (She fails to mention the two workshop papers sitting on her dining room table that need to be critiqued by tomorrow a.m.)
The open road. Almost as open as Anna is to suggestion at this point...
All that black. All that night. All those hours during the day holding conferences for the students she is on the road for now. All those words on all those pages. All that black ink melding into an encompassing mush, seeping through the skin like osmosis...into the finger, up the hand, the forearm, the shoulder. Into the fast-moving stream of the jugular. Hours later into the brain.
Anna's tired.
She arrives at the mega-store. The parking lot as tired as she is.
The candy selection, too. Trick-or-treat was last weekend. She thought at least she'd get surplus bags of candy at a discount. Not really.
She chooses caramel apple suckers and Hershey's mini candy bars. One each for each student. Extra for the office. Dark chocolate for Loyal Meg. Despite the vacant look on her face, Anna's thrilled. She likes the student who's obsessed with the Beatles the most. And the football player in front is a card. The ones who did the extra credit will appreciate the gesture.
Anna is still tired though. Usually 2am isn't a big deal. After a long weekend and consistently little sleep though, Anna can't hold out much longer.
She falls asleep at the wheel on Madison Avenue. The car careens into a Minnesota half-lake. The impact is enough to send a sucker stem out of the package and into her jugular where it quickly dislodges and the floodgates open.
Don't let it be in vain, Loyal Meg. Tell my story to the world! Deliver my candy to my students tomorrow. Give it to them before you tell them the tragic news. Make sure you wish them a Happy Halloween.
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