tesseractAnd the less verbose half of the prompt: an image.
the generalization of a cube to four dimensions
She held the cup in her hands longer than she was comfortable When it started to scald her fingers she placed it on the top of her stack of unread papers. It spilled and she grimaced. It wasn't the first time she had failed to return pristine copies back to her students and hoped they would accept her rimmed offering.
She wasn't sure how she ended up her. She received a masters in English so that she could write, not grade papers in the dim light of her apartment. If she had been a little less starving and a little more artist, she might be in a coffee shop somewhere with a scarf and a portable typewriter pounding out words as if her life depended on it, and it did. Instead she had formed a tesseract in these walls, drawing them up around her and keeping her from what she could be. She was trapped like a spider afloat on a single twig, all legs and no hope for a future of dry land.
She marked a sentence with her red pen, leaving half scrawled notes for Mark Anderson to read when he picked it up. She didn't recognize his name, and tried to remain impartial in her grading. Mark was no doubt another privileged trust fund baby who showed up for tests and papers. Those were the worst kind. She wanted to share with these new adults a love for words and when they didn't even bother to stroll through her door she couldn't help but shake with rage.
The paper was good though, and she picked up her cup of coffee, allowed a tiny bit of creamy brown liquid to splash on the page. Vindicated, she wrote the word "Sorry" in red ink. She wasn't.
Really enjoying where this is going. I think I'll add to it and make it a bit longer. Super excited to link up with Write On Edge this week! Glad that the wanderers have wandered home.