This is a Classroom MACKSIMILLIAN TOPINKA
Here, where I sit, in sweatpants and a tank top, an outfit I would never wear in any other situation, is a Classroom like no other. This Classroom has boxes. Big, green U-Haul logos and cardboard marked “Fragile,” as if it matters, as if they plan on going anywhere. This Classroom is littered with toy swords and tiny blue sneakers, reminders of my nephew and his running smile of excitement as his Deux has come home. This Classroom has a bed and a table and big, red leather armchairs. It is filled with soft spots to rest, as if I weren’t here to do work. This Classroom has temptation. The acoustic guitar in the corner that I can’t even play calls to me because at least it isn’t the dreaded Italian “synchronous meeting.” The red plastic drawer in my closet screams for me to take its pliers, 42 | Montage
