You leave

For a second you consider a reply, but you bite it back. The Dean has a point, and you know it. With a hint of a nod, you walk out of his office.

You stride briskly out of the building, trying to work off your anger with exercise. Part of your mind is saying you should never have involved the Dean, while another berates you for letting your temper get the best of you.

"Stripping those little bitches," you mutter to yourself. "What were you thinking?"

Back in the days that you were drinking, this would have had you finding a bottle and climbing in, looking for solace. You put that thought out of you head, opting instead to explore the campus. You stride over the grounds, your direction random, barely noticing what you're passing as your anger and self loathing slowly dissipate.

When you finally calm, you find yourself in front of the main building. Remembering that it holds the library you decide to visit. You've always taken solace in books and reading, and perhaps you can find a little peace there.

The library takes up half of the second floor. You step through a massive set of double doors to find it much more impressive than you expected. Books are shelved well above you on every wall and polished tables stand in the centre of the room. A railing circles above the open floor where you are standing and you see more stacks on the floor above you. Above that floor you can see the thick beams and rafters that hold up the slate roof like the inside of a cathedral. Furthering the impression of a religious facility are the beams of light that stream in from the tall windows on both sides of the great room and the dormers far above.

You nod your head, impressed in spite of yourself, wandering in silence over the thick burgundy carpets noting the heavy wooden tables and plush chairs. Sturdy wooden ladders built into tracks on the floor slide easily along the walls allowing even the shortest of students to reach the shelves above your reach. Through doors on either end of the sixty foot room you see nooks and rows of computers, but the this main section could have looked like this over one-hundred and fifty years ago when it was first built.

You take a book off the shelves at random, not caring what it is, and take a seat in a comfortable chair set in a windowed alcove at the end of the room. You take a moment to look out at the landscaped grounds of the campus before turning your attention to the book. You give an ironic snort as you see it's Margaret Mead's 'Coming of Age in Samoa' her seminal study of societal factors on psychosexual behaviour that you read back in college. How suitable, you think to yourself as you open the book.

You've only read a few pages, when something catches your eye.