This was a new feeling.
Not the cold, though I must admit I was shaking slightly.
The feeling of my heart beating strong enough to actually feel it against my ribs. I imagined others could hear it as well.
There's also the feeling of the hard seat on my bare legs.
Only a small field of vision through the slits in the hood covering my head.
The sound of footsteps behind me, preparing the table.
It's long after midnight. One more paper to grade. I take a deep breath and a last swig of cold coffee. The assignment had been to write a story about lost love. My mistake. Seems these students are too young to describe such emotional upheavals convincingly. Or maybe they just don't dare to be honest. Anyway, Isabelle is my last hope. She's the beauty with the little nose ring. Always sits at the front looking wide eyed at me as if she reads my thoughts when I return her gaze.