The art teacher

“Excuse me, miss. What are you doing here?” A woman with black hair and tanned skin walked in. She was well dressed, but not formally.

“I’m teaching my class.”

“Is this some kind of joke? I’m teaching this class. Intermediate drawing and painting.” The woman said. Courtney’s heart dropped.

“Oh! My goodness! I’m so sorry. I was under the impression that this was my psychology class. It seems I’ve been led wrong.” She exclaimed.

“No harm done, although you might want to see to your own class. And on the way, be careful. I’d hate to find fabric lining the halls.”

“Yes yes. Before I go, where is my class?”

“It should be down the hall and a left turn from there.” She explained tiredly.

“Ok, thank you very much!”