Day 34. Pestilence.

"Therefore, send not to know

For whom the bell tolls,

It tolls for Thee."

John Donne, 1624

The vultures sensing the feast table had been set, slowly began to circle down the invisible staircase towards the 900 building. Inside, specifically during period seven one by one the children fell ill, until I was left mostly alone.

How they wept and cried and, in a not at all choreographed way, began to wither like grapes into raisins in a neglected vineyard.

"Sir, I'm terribly sorry but I'm overcome by a dreadful malaise, and I must depart the premises, for I fear I leave behind the land of warm suns and exchange it for the cold lands below."

And so the first student left.

Then one at a time, in a way that did not leave any suspicion of collusion or pre-thought, an entire study group was called out one by one, leaving to go to mysterious appointments with people unknown. Finally I was left alone, somehow the sole survivor of a mysterious illness that had taken all but the heartiest of children.

And so, class size has been determined by the fickle nature of an almost sentient flu, that seemed to know exactly what group to sicken. And just like that, the class average leapt up a few digits, and amongst the survivors their was great sadness, but also much rejoicing.