Dark Habit

Sarah shoved the small brown paper bag into an over sized black purse. She wasn’t hiding anything, she told herself. It was just easier to carry in the purse.

She looked in the rear view mirror. Tired. She looked so tired! And the makeup she applied to hide the dark rings under her eyes, made them look worse.

She sighed and looked longingly at the black purse. No. Not now, you have too much to do today. Focus, you need focus. Besides, it’s responsible for the way your face looks this morning. Get it together!

She grabbed the purse and pushed open the car door.

The building custodian was a tall thin man, with gray hair and a slightly bent back. He opened the door to the building as Sarah approached. “Good morning Professor McMullen,” he said with a small smile.

Sarah instinctively clutched her purse tighter and gave a small nod. “Good morning Don.”

Was he looking at the rings under her eyes? Her slightly rumpled slacks? No. No. She pushed the thoughts away. No one knew. No one could ever possibly know.

“Everything ok?” He asked.

Sarah made her fingers relax a little around the bag. "Fine. Everything is fine. Thank you.”

She turned and walked quickly to her office. She started the coffee pot and sat down behind the cluttered desk still clutching the over large purse.

Her eyes scanned the enormous piles of ungraded papers perched precariously on the desk. She was so behind!

She laid the black purse on the largest stack, grabbed a pink chipped coffee mug, added Splenda and some creamer with shaking hands, then quickly removed the coffee pot and placed the cup directly under the stream.

The purse stared accusingly at her back, a silent testimony of her addiction.

She shoved the coffee pot back onto the burner to resume filling and sat down.

Sarah sipped from the mug while her eyes slowly went from the purse to the papers. From the papers to the purse. Purse. Papers.

Papers.

Purse.

I have to stop doing this, she thought. It’s taking a toll on me, on my work, on my sleep. I have to stop.

But, not today.

She reached for the bag.

“Professor?” a voice came from the doorway.

Sarah startled almost spilling the coffee. “Yes?”

David, a young grad student with black hair and brown eyes, smiled. “I need a little feedback about a thesis idea.”

Sarah looked longingly at the purse. She sighed. “Come on in.”

David smiled and slid into the only other chair in the office.

“What is it?” Sarah asked sipping from her mug.

David moaned. “I know you are not a fan of modern fiction, but…”

Sarah smiled. “You do understand why I think modern literature is a poor substitute for the classics?”

David nodded and returned her smile. “Of course, I took that class remember? I was thinking as a thesis, well, I am not suggesting it be a substitute, more a natural evolution of the written word. But I am not sure I want to spend a lot of time on it if you will reject it out of hand.”

“Reject it?” Sarah asked. “Why don’t you give me a short synopsis?”

David smiled and leaned forward. “It’s simple. While the classics were good,”

Sarah raised her eyebrows. “Were?”

“Are, are good,” David laughed. “Modern literature is different because WE, are different. When the classics were penned, people could spend time reading long flowery worded stories. Now days because of television and internet, people want pictures, visual images. Most people don’t have your education level Professor, or your intellect,”

Sarah held up a hand. “David, I am a literature snob. I know everyone says it behind my back.” She waived her hand to cut off his reply. “Let me finish.” She sipped from her mug, eyes lingering on the black bag sitting accusingly on it's little paper mountain.

“Get an outline together, I will look it over.”

David’s shoulders slumped.

Sarah sighed. “You didn’t expect me to approve it right now did you?”

David shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. “I was hoping,”

“Nice try,” Sarah said. “Now is that all? I have a lot of work to do.”

“Thanks,” David said and stood.

“Shut the door on the way out,” Sarah said. She watched the door snick shut.

I can do this, she thought. I can have a little taste with my morning coffee, a little before work treat. A pick me up.

Yes indeed. I work hard for a living, I deserve a little pick me up.

She set the coffee cup down carefully and reached with eager hands for the purse.

The brown bag crinkled loudly in the quiet office. She glanced at the office door ensuring it was still closed, lest someone hear the bag, think she brought in something sweet to share, and barge in.

The door knob did not turn.

She smiled, and opened the latest of the “Black Dagger Brotherhood" by JR Ward.

Within moments, she was lost once again to the dark habit.