Rebecca quickly gathered up her things, switching her phone from the more distractive apps such as smurf farming and to important applications such as her calendar. Although the sight of her schedule made her halt in the doorway, the arm carrying her thermos and her flowing taste in garments continuing to sway.
There it was posted: 2nd Music Theory Class @10:10 am, Rm M-18.
The cartoonishly tall Voll-Spillum comically looked up and down the hallway. This was the same room as her first class and she could even hear the distant sounds of the student body amassed as the girls went about to their next classes. Yet no students were coming down her hallway.
Rebecca placed her materials back to where they had been. This was a puzzle. The over achieving music prodigy (who had never really taught that much in her life) had been eagerly anticipating the full teaching schedule the headmistress of Buttercombe had set up for her. She was no stranger to long schedules given her years on a touring orchestra. Yet why was her class empty, when the place and time had been set aside specifically for a second Music Theory class?
Rebecca sat back at the desk. Did her next students just not know where the classroom was? Had there been a scheduling error? Rebecca couldn’t just leave now if it turned up the trickle of late students started after she left. Perhaps she was supposed to set up office hours?
Rebecca hit upon the idea of going back to the piano to play something she knew from rote memory. Surely the sounds of music will draw in the remarkably lost students? With a measured stretch of her knuckles Rebecca launched into a difficult composition by Frederic Chopin.
And so Rebecca played, feeling the familiar piece flow through her as the music went out through her fingers to tickle the ivories. Occasionally she would look towards the door, awaiting the first lost student to make an appearance. She played. And played. Yet still no one came.
Rebecca wasn’t even paying attention to the keyboard anymore. Her eyes glued to the door one hand played Chopin distractedly. One handedly! Back turned! Not even paying full attention to it! Yet no dice. The pied piper had not attracted the rats today, or rather the semi-bloated music professor missing an entire classroom of girls.
Rebecca sighed, slumping against the piano as her elbows found discarded resting places on the keyboard. And still not even a peep or a face to see her lounging against the music equipment unprofessionally.
She was starting to get antsy. She had recorded her schedule correctly, right? And her first class had gone so well. She couldn’t just go back to her phone, temptation that it was. The halls had returned to relative silence, the passing time done as new classes continued. Except Rebecca’s. She idly flicked a figure against the bump of her outie bellybutton, oblivious to the slosh of her stomach.
Rebecca Voll-Spillum was going to have to figure out something to calm her nerves or get some answers of what had happened to her second Music Theory class.
Copyright 2000 - 2025 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.16 seconds at 1:02am on Jan 23, 2025 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author
