Читать книгу Over the Spiked Picket Fence - Angela Aloisio Sander & Denvil Buchanan - Страница 18

I was already agitated having traveled on the TTC, squished against a sweaty psycho carrying a vacuum cleaner which seemingly he was having a conversation with. Evidently, he had vacuumed his cat’s ashes from the urn and now took the remains everywhere with him. Poor suffering soul. I just shook my head and said, “I guess you have the cat in the bag then,” and moved away from him. It had taken me an hour and one half to get from the city’s west end all the way to the college campus in the east, just to take this godforsaken course. And now here HE was again crowding my personal space.

Before I could answer him to put him in his place, the professor had approached the front of the room indicating that the lecture was about to begin.