Today I imagined that I was dying in class. First, my skin began to fill up and my body took on a doughy and large quality. After that, I imagined turning colors (maybe a lavender to pale green to blueish to deep purple) and slowly asphyxiating. Then I fell over and the whole class looked first surprised and then horrified, as the flabby mass of my new body hiccupped out of life.
I did imagine my professor would scream, although not because she seems especially inclined to the dainty. Rather, I would probably also scream upon witnessing such a — calamity?
I told Richard about this image and he suggested that it might be an excellent premise for a short story — the idea being that students who were feeling any amount of discomfort, whether related to a need to pee or a sense of disagreement with a professor, would immediately experience the same symptoms and eventually keel over dead.
We both thought this was exceptionally funny and considered that professors would become extremely lenient and agreeable if the threat of student-deaths hung so imminently in the classroom air.
I will confess that my discomfort was wholly related to a lack of sleep which induced a sore neck (not precisely sure on the connections here), but that I was happy in knowing that my imagination still seemed functional.