#12 The Nature of Punishment (Part III)
I lifted one hand to rub at my eyes. This is how tired I was: the black of the word “Teach” blazed up at me from the white of the envelope. I tore the envelope open. A chipboard key slid out. In a spidery scrawl the words, 'teach', 'trust' and 'communication' were recorded. The reverse of the heavy cardboard cut out was printed an address I recognized, an address that made my heart sink.
I did not want to go back there again. I did not want to face the macabre students in the linen and cotton and coffee sack colors. And though it was a different floor listed on the chipboard key, it might as well have been labeled Morgue. For that was how I suddenly felt: surrounded by hopeless death.