Oh, Your Love Will Do

Isabelle's point of view

“Turn in your quizzes before you leave! They’ll be the last for this grading period before your review and your test!”

My professor, who was clad in his usual suspenders and black rimmed glasses, stood at the front of the classroom, smiling expectantly.

I had long since been finished with my quiz, as usual. However, I didn’t want to be the first to stand up and turn it in. I didn’t want to embarrass everyone else who hadn’t finished.
I looked around to try and find someone else who had finished, but I was alone…

I was the only person who tried in this class; philosophy. I needed it for my major in photography. I studied for it like crazy. I was never very good at the philosophical stuff like the humanities, but I was never very good at failing classes either.

Finally, when I saw that I would be waiting forever if I didn’t leave now, I stood and turned in my quiz. It was long and kind of tricky, so I understood why it took everyone else so long. I was just devoted.

My professor smiled at me approvingly before he took the paper and then nodded to dismiss me.

I swung my bag over my shoulder and left through the heavy wooden door that led to the outside corridor. This wing of the large building belonged to the humanities, and the wing adjacent to it; the arts. That was where I was headed.

I was off for the rest of the day, but I wanted to develop some pictures…and maybe go by the dance studio afterwards.

The walk was a peaceful one. I took a shortcut through the outdoor courtyard that separated the two wings. The trees stood tall and strong above me, and the sunlight that was allowed through the thick leaves and branches was scattered about and splashed across the dark green grass. This courtyard was my escape, and my muse, from time to time. It was never too hot, for lack of sunlight, and never too full of people. It was like my very own special place to study and think. Even one of the huge oak trees had the perfect nook near the base of it, so that leaning against it while sitting was comfortable instead of painful. It seemed to fit my back perfectly.

I smiled, refreshed my lungs with the thick trees’ air, and walked leisurely. This was very much like home, and I felt free.

The feeling lingered even after I left the courtyard and walked through the art wing of the building.

As I passed the classrooms classical music flowed from a cracked door. A pianist with light fingers and very much talent and inspiration was sharing a moment with their instrument, and I smiled at the beautiful music they were creating.

Just down the hallway I was forced to shut out the music with the heavy door of the dark room. I was hesitant to do so…a part of me longed to just sit and listen, but I decided against it. My own art needed to be developed.

So I took my film and everything I needed, and I closed the door, shutting the music out.