Desire's Dissertation

Prologue

Started: 18/04/23

The Conference of 2019 was a waking nightmare.

The projector hummed in the background, each slide change sounding like a desperate gasp for air. Three hours in and there hadn't been a single break. The speaker's voice was progressively growing hoarse, spit accumulating on either side of his mouth like a rabid dog. A familiar aroma of coffee drifted towards me, calling my name.

I pretended to take notes, adjusting my glasses to feign attentiveness to the fellow scholars beside me. While the atmosphere in this lecture hall appeared drier than last year's winter, it was cutthroat. Everyone in the room was on the edge of their seats, desperate to secure a recommendation letter from the company that could launch their careers to the stratosphere. Which is why I had been listening to this balding man since 10 am. Someone in the audience began coughing uncontrollably, causing a commotion as they left. Lucky bastard.

I used to think that this was where my hard work had led me, that I was destined to become another character in this mundane academic scene. But now, nearing the end of my PhD, I wanted more from life. I had no friends after being convinced that locking myself up in a library cubicle or my room was a peak intellectual move for an ambitious student. It's hard to believe that spending my days in a large room with grey-white walls and a creaky chalkboard should be my destiny.

I slumped to the side, accidentally pushing my elbow into the person on my right and her pen went flying out of her grasp. She glared at me and I shrugged. Not my fault she's left-handed. I focused my attention on the speaker again, who was now sweating profusely.

"Did your parents not teach you any manners?" A hushed whisper from my right made me jump. I turned, outraged.

"No, they didn't, I'm assuming the same for you?"

My voice was only slightly louder than hers yet it stirred enough attention to receive several shh's. Dark purple hair shot into my line of sight as the girl flipped her hair. I had a feeling she wasn't going to let this go. Neither was I. 

I had not recognised her quite yet. Maybe that was my downfall.