Blogging from A to Z Challenge — Letter I


Today’s Positive Adjective:
Idiosyncratic: pertaining to the nature of idiosyncrasy, or something peculiar to an individual

My phone was blowing up, and I tried my best to ignore Sylvie’s texts. I checked the time and caught Professor Morton’s glare.  She had a strict “no phone” policy and I didn’t want to piss her off on the first day. The five minutes until class ended stretched to eternity. Sylvie’s texts pushed the vibrate feature from pleasure mode straight to frustration.

Professor Morton dismissed us, and I grabbed my bag. Bolting for the door, I headed towards the seating area at the end of the hall. As I walked if flipped to her messages.

“OMG No Prof K. He died or some shit.”

Professor Kennedy taught the required freshmen Composition 101 and 102 courses. I met Sylvie in his course last semester, and we became inseparable. Scheduling conflicts meant we couldn’t take Comp 2 together this term. She had Kennedy’s class now, and I was scheduled for his next session. I hoped they didn’t cancel it since it would cause havoc with my calendar.

“Check out his replacement.”

I swiped to the photo and gasped. Sylvie had surreptitiously snapped a pic as the new guy walked between the desks. Framed from the crotch to his forehead, he filled the image. Long golden curls covered broad shoulders and his bushy blond walrus mustache accentuated his full red lips. I noticed I was breathing harder as I stared at his piercing blue eyes. It was obvious he had known Sylvie was taking his picture as he looked right at me. I reluctantly scrolled to read the next message.

“Can you say NORSE FREAKING GOD????”

“No shit, Sylvie,” I said out loud.

“Crappy name. Ingmar Bergman.”

Another photo. This one featured his ass as did the four following ones which marked his progress as he walked to the front of the classroom.

“He’s Swedish.”

I hit play on the video. He spoke. His accent was a bizarre and idiosyncratic interpretation of English. I loved it and my heart pounded in my ears when I played it again.

“Oh yeah. Call him DR. Bergman,” her next text said.

“The DR. can examine me anytime.” Sylvie followed her comment with a line of heart emojis.

She sent a dozen photos of him standing in front of the classroom.

“Comp is my new favorite subject,” she texted.

I laughed at the last image. Sylvie had and captured him unknowingly photo-bombing her selfie. This one she tagged with “Don’t be late. HOTTEST Prof this semester.”

I typed my reply and hit send.

“I’m on my way. Do NOT disturb me. We’ll talk after.”

I slipped my phone into my pocket and headed to class. Sylvie was right, I didn’t want to miss a single minute with the good doctor.


Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

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