Pseudopod 107: Front Row Seats

By Scott William Carter

Read by Rick Stringer

Daniel lingered in his cramped office at the University of Minnesota long
after the other professors in the Math department called it a day. He was
still there when all the lights under all the doors winked out and the
parking lot outside his window was a bleak, snow-draped emptiness. He was
at his desk when old Cal Thomas from Geography shuffled past, taking his
incessant coughing with him. He stayed until the equations on shifted
lattices turned to squirrelly nonsense, lines and squiggles on ruled
pages, until finally he felt the thing creep into his thoughts, that black
starfish wrapping its prickly limbs around whatever memories he chose to
dwell upon, making his ears ring and his eyes water.