Welcome to Act II


This is where everything heats up…

↓ Transcript
The next morning I was sitting in English class, listening to Mr. Wallace drone on about nuances of story structure in Macbeth.
I was busy trying to decide if he had ever actually seen the play performed,
on a stage,
with actors.

Of course, I wasn't willing to discount the idea he'd been to Shakespeare’s original performance.

My internal debate was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door.
Wallace paused his dissertation and shuffled to the door.
After a brief discussion, he received a slip of paper, then returned to his dissertation, mid-sentence, where he had left off.

As he rambled, he walked straight up to me and dropped the slip of paper on my desk.
Then he returned to the front of the room, all without the slightest hint of human emotion.

I was to report to the office at lunch. Someone had dropped off a parcel for me.
I wasn't expecting anything...