The Exodus

I snapped awake and checked my watch, knowing I had to be late for something. My eyes widened as I read the numbers, 8:02. I leapt to my feet and threw on whatever clothing my hands landed on first. I ran down the hall cursing my alarm clock under my breath. Why had I signed up for classes at 8 a.m.? I walked into my class 10 minutes late to students with no teacher. Now the law commonly accepted among students is that if your professor does not show after 15 minutes you are free to go. So with five more minutes to wait the game was on. It seemed like time was mocking us as she slowed her seconds and minutes down maliciously. Finally, it was happening. The allotted time had come and gone for our professor to show up. While the others in my class were unsure of what to do, I for one intended to take advantage of this new nap time that had just presented itself. So fearlessly, I led the way to freedom. As a few of my classmates and I left, the familiar vehicle of our professor pulled up outside the window. Being already committed to this exodus, we quickened our pace down the hall to get out in time. I got as many out as I could, but all I could think about as I curled up back in my bed were the poor souls who were left behind.

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