The Sitting-Back Chair

I sit back in my chair. This classroom has sitting-back chairs. Maybe the chairs knew that I would need to sit back, to think before I said something that didn't need to be said.

The professor is talking. He is reading out of a book.

Something doesn't feel right. I play with a strand of my hair. I lean back in my chair.

The book is by a professor from Cornell. He got his degree at Cambridge. I wonder where my professor got his degree.

The book has big, smart words. My professor has to explain what they mean. Nobody in the class really knows what they mean. Nobody in the class knows big Cornell Cambridge talk.

My sitting-back chair leans back and forward. Back and forward. Why are these big Cornell Cambridge words so familiar. Why doesn't this feel right.

Between the big Cornell Cambridge words I suddenly see.

Cornell Cambridge talk tries to make God fit inside of a little, insignificant ivory tower.