There is a fountain in the courtyard. I sit by it and listen to its intermittent babbling. One moment trickling calm, the next, urgent and spurting. I ponder how tonight's class fits into the bigger picture of my future. A fitting analogy, given this is an art class. Is it wrong to take the road most traveled on, I think to myself as the fountain gurgles wildly. The nagging feeling that class will start soon pulls me from my plans for the future. The water slowly ebbs and I pack my things.
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