Shia Pennett

You'll Never Be a Writer

1 I sat in his office surrounded by half graded papers, shelves of books, and a layer of dust. His office seemed to be the smallest in the building and shoved into the farthest corner of the English Department building. I’d had a hard time finding him, and now sitting inside of it with him, the room didn’t seem to fit us. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, staring at him with open and hopeful ears.