Only a dozen or so students are there, fumbling with notebooks and syllabi.

plaid flannel shirts

I tell myself it will not be easy to cut a class this small

attendance list

I do a double take at this guy in his yellow turtleneck and green corduroy pants, the silver hair that falls on his forehead.

Roll back the tape, Let me hear that part again.

his face was graunt.

I killed the engine and sunk down off the seat.

He rocked agaist me, not letting go, his hands reaching up for my elbows as I bent over him.

I was no longer the good, gift-bearing student he remembered.

it is morrie's softness that draws me, and because he does not look at me as a kid trying to be something more than I am, I relax.

Morrie, to my delight, is even more of a slob than I am.

He talks instead of chewing, laughs with his mouth open, delivers a passionate thought through a mouthful of egg salad, the little yellow pieces spewing from his teeth.