Cue: Twilight Zone music
It isn’t any normal kind of classroom.
It’s full of ghosts, the spirits of students past.
The radiator clicks and buzzes as hot water is forced through it (in much the same way the brains of the past students would have clicked and buzzed as knowledge was forced in to them), yet the room remains cold.
The ancient-looking VCR in the corner is partnered with a television that might have been John Logie Baird’s prototype.
Incredibly, the room smells of chalk dust, yet there’s a wall-length white board; the room hasn’t seen chalk in at least twenty years.
The walls are festooned with ‘trendy’ posters to promote aspects of the classics to the students.
The students; where are the students?
They were here once.
Young, eager, brimming with excitement and anticipation.
Eyes wide open, brains receptive to new ideas…
On their terms.
Homer looks sternly down from above the white board.
What odysseys have you seen in here, Homerus?
What journeys will you see yet?
The furniture is comfortable but small.
The man sitting in his comfortable but upright chair at his functional yet slightly too-small desk feels like a Gulliver in a Lilliputian place of learning.
There are voices.
Next door eight or nine people are engaged in prayer.
The man finds this surreal.
Two more voices are heard, outside the door.
Students for the same class as the man, but less bold – haven’t operated the door, have chosen to stay outside to discuss… something.
The class is due to start in four minutes.