Mycology Seminar - Class Three [Tuesday Evening, 4th of November]

[tolpen]

It seems that today the classroom has been mostly cleared out of the remnants of the last lecture you’ve had here: All wax meticulously scrubbed and scraped off all the surfaces, no spores on the ceiling, no staining orange milk spilled on the desks. Instead by the shelves and leaning against the walls are nets – for butterflies and moths, for fishing, for scandalous legs. Landing, weighted, one doily that might have gotten here by an accident and now everybody is too afraid to leave it out, because yes, technically it is a lot of holes surrounded by a thread.
However, on the lectern – where the ledger of attendance usually lays – is a big, and here we mean a really big bowl of apples, stacked to a neat trigonal pyramid.
A helpful little piece of cardboard says claims that you are free to help thyself to a reasonable amount
The teacher’s desk itself is buried under boxes. Boxes one might use when moving from past premises to new ones. One solitary pitcher of water stands beside them.
The classroom which usually smells of poor air circulation today carries sweet scent of apples, recently upturned soil, and a sharp cologne with a hint of sandalwood to it, you know, the one so popular in saloons and conferences this season.( Read more... )

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