I’m a graduate student at the University of Virginia.
I’m in a History class taking a quiz that involves writing answers in the margins of my textbook.
The quiz ends and the students are responsible for self-grading the quizzes.
I keep missing the grading scale and I’m having trouble discerning whether or not I’ve written down the right answer.
The teacher, who turns our to be Howard Zinn, puts his hand on my shoulder.
I look up.
It’s 6:00 AM and I’m in my bed next to Jenn.
Please feel free to dissect.