Usually I loved my classes. They were a break from the social
pressures of college which, frankly, had taken a rise since I
started dating the popular son of the football coach. However, today
when I found my eyes drawn to the clock on the wall just above Miss
Capedem's head, I found myself unable to focus. It was as though
the second hand was moving clockwise around the face deliberately
slowly, like a slug...or a snail.