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How T0 Write An English
              Composition

                                          PEGGYHILLER

"W RITINGA composition is an art," says the professor. But I'm

                 not the artistic type. This is problem one. Problem two
arises when he says, "Write from experience; something interesting
that has happened to you." And I wonder who he's talking to. For Al-
bert Sweitzer or Marilyn Monroe, this would be easy. But to -me,
typical college cooed on typical college campus, this is like selling
Bikinis to Eskimos.

       My existence is made up of insignificant happenings: tripping
over the alarm clock cord as I struggle to, turn the darn thing off;
side-swiping the dean's car as I back out of the parking lot; finding
glass in my shrimp creole; criticizing the chapel speaker, ignorant of
the fact that his son is sitting next to me. Nothing interesting ever

happens to me.
       So, when I find myself in the grille on Tuesday night with an

English composition due on Wednesday morning, I panic. Obviously
the Student Union is not the most inspiring place, so after eight hands
of bridge, I manage to tear myself away and cross that bleak wasteland
to the library.

      As I walk into the library, I look casually around at the un-
happy faces, heads bent over books. Very discouraging atmosphere
to a creative writer. Being a gregarious animal, I sit down at a table
with five of my sorority sisters. They hail my arrival with as much
enthusiasm as a group of females can muster without saying a word.
For a few minutes we pass hastily scribbled notes commenting on to-
day's philosophy test, the new football uniforms, and the SGA meet-
ing. Then with a resigned sigh, suggestive of one's preparing to sit
in the electric chair, I open my composition book. The cover cracks
loudly, as if it has never been opened. It hasn't.

      "Page I: How to write a composition .... " The library door
opens, and two students walk in. From behind books, six pairs of
eyes look up, survey the couple, and exchange meaningful glances.
Lea ventures a brave whisper across the table between us, "Hey, when
did he start dating HER?"

      "Don't jump to conclusions," I. whisper back. "They probably

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