Nebula

Hazy blackboard after chalk scuffle. Teacher fingers for page 54, the beard of the person we are going to study today peeps out. I'm at her desk when the lesson ends. I propose that we can be somewhere in that desk, contained in a nebula of particles, deep down. She shakes her head from side to side, and gives a nervous chuckle. Later, I found out that her husband, the guy who told us that Robinson Crusoe could only live by himself for somebody else to look at him, had left her.