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, 
I didn't.