Directions slow to cresindo.
I had lost my notebook, shoes and mis-placed my fancy math text. Frustrated, all I could do was glimpse down the hill over the trees to see the web of streets I needed to navigate to get to the University - and the classes I was late in attending. I ended up cutting through yet another building. I moved higgily-piggily, outrunning my sight and slammed into Andy Warhol. I pardoned and asked him for directions. He responded politely saying this was the symposium building and that they, too, were searching for answers. I inquired if he and the rest of the students were using the correct accent.
As soon as I realized I did not have to play tag,