Both Alike in Dignity

Abstract

He is sitting here at his desk, surrounded by his books and papers, his various wall posters barely hinting at their vibrant colours in the soft glow of the room’s lamps. Sitting here in the dark early morning in the familiar soulfulness of his room, the door and windows secure and locked. Sitting here with his poem written and today’s lesson plan just about done, and now feeling so much more settled. It is hard, now, even to remember how awful he had felt during yesterday’s lesson.