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just happened to come in at the same time. Surreptitiously, our eyes
follow the couple as they sit across from each other at another table.

"Oh, year? Look! They're sitting together." The pointed ~oe
of Lea's shoe makes contact with my shin under the table, adding
emphasis to her statement. 1 muffle a shriek of pain and agree silent-
ly. "Wonder what happened to him and Carole." Speculation about
this momentous event occupies my mind for the next few minutes.
The librarian frowns disapprovingly, and 1 bury my nose in the book.
"The first step in narrative writing is.... "

The door opens again, and once again Lea's pointed toe calls my
attention to it. "Hey, look at Linda. What did she do to her hair?"
At any other time 1 would be interested in whether or not Linda is
hitting the peroxide bottle again, but all this isn't helping my crea-
tive writing. 1 gather up my books and start up the stairs to the
balcony. If nobody is in my favorite spot between the book shelves,
1 can study undisturbed. But no such luck. The campus football
hero and his 1atest girl are occupying the space between shelves 200-
299: psychology and 300-399: sociology. From their relative positions,
1 conclude that they must be studying courtship patterns and affec-
tional roles. The sociology department would be amazed at the amount
of social interaction that goes on between book shelves.

With a deep sign 1 go back to that dingy, disorderly, cell-like
refuge, that center of activity, that place where a girl can hang her
beanie; known as home, sweet dorm. Here at last, "far from the
madding crowd," 1 can find peace, quiet, and (I hope) inspiration.
Back to the book.

"The first rule of concentration is an uncluttered desk .... " 1
look at mine. By shoving three or four books onto the floor, 1 can
find space enough to prop one elbow. By moving my lamp, type-
writer, toaster, hat box, wastebasket, mug, stationery, and alarm clock
to my bed, 1 find room to lay my notebook and pencil. That's a g~od
start. Now the desk is reasonable clear of debris, looking less lIke
Hiroshima after the bombing. All that's left on it now is an empty
coke bottle, three tubes of lipstick, half a candy bar, two letters, .a
stuffed worm, a pair of tennis shoes, six pennies, four Johnny Mathis
albums, and one "Mad" magazine. Feeling very inspired 1 decide that
reading the book isn't really necessary anyway; besides, I don't have
time. 1 begin to write.

At this point my roommate throws open the door, takes two steps
across the room and hurls her books at the nearest wall. 1 duck, and
Shakespeare, Complete and Unabridged misses my head by inches.

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