Lost in a roomful of strangers, from the rear rows of the crowded classroom, I watched distractedly. The overdressed professor projected a series of PowerPoint slides on to the white screen. His voice, filtered through my stupor, sounded a monotonous drone. He was an utter bore.
But, suddenly, I sat bolt upright. The podium was now occupied by his colleague, by her. I knew, in theory, he’d introduced her, but I hadn't heard him. Her name, hence, hadn't registered on my mental radar. Only she had.
She’d grabbed my attention only to distract it, to scatter it, to blow it away. When she spoke, I heard her intently, but again, I didn't listen to her. I wasn't interested. At that instant, she mattered far more than her lecture did.
Once out of the program, I wondered, if I should have stayed back.
