I was feeling a little nervous; class was about to begin; I looked up from my notes - a new person had materialised at the end of the table and was staring hard at me. “I’ve not paid yet. Should I pay now?” she asked.
“Did you not sign up at the registration process 2 weeks ago?” asked Anne, who’s in charge of evening classes in the area, with a slight air of exasperation.
The woman looked a little confused. “Er… no. Can I join now?”
Anne looked back at me. “I’m ok with that,” I said. There were 12 of us in the small room, but we could accommodate one more without too much of a problem.
“Well, if the tutor’s alright about it, I guess…” began Anne.
Suddenly the woman stood up, stooped slightly, placed the back of her hand to her forehead and said, “Ooh, I don’t feel very well. I think I’ll need to leave.”
Fearing we might end up with our first fatality before the class had even begun, Anne leapt up. “Are you going to be ok getting home?” she asked with concern.
“I’ll be fine,” she replied. “Is it all right if I start next week instead?”
And suddenly she was off and out of the room with a surprising amount of gusto for a woman on the verge of collapse.
After that, examining notions of time, space and the existence of the universe was a doddle.