the croak was slightly deliberate

    Dear Harriet Walter,

    Here are 3 bits of dialogue from today.

    1. I walked through the cafeteria door and joined the lunch line directly behind former Navy boy Dane.
    "Ruby," he said.
    "Dane," I said.
    "It's Tuesday. Do you know what that means?"
    I thought about it. Tuesday. Three classes for me today? Bible exam study session this evening? Beginning of the school week for most of us? I shook my head at him.
    Dane turned his lunch tray sideways, as he would hold a guitar, and began banging on it with his empty blue cup and loudly singing, "Goooooodbye, Ruuuby Tuuuesday, who could hang a name on you?"
    Ah yes.


    2. I stood on the steps outside the main classroom building, getting a breath of fresh air after my first of three classes in a row. (The first had been Bible and it would be followed by Literature and Philosophy. The class had been our third session covering the Psalms and Professor Mine Enemy had proceeded at a rapid pace almost the whole way through, owing to the fact that we needed to finish up that book today and he had lots of connections to make and information to cram into our heads, and despite the fact that he was sick today and had been hoarse to a degree that was almost painful to listen to.) Brielle and Danielle stood on the steps with me, and Danielle was expressing concern for Brielle's health, as Brielle is also sick.
    Communications Professor (Comprof?) passed us on the stairs and overheard some of this concern. "Is she ok?" he asked.
    "I have bronchitis a little bit," said Brielle. "I'm getting better."
    "Oh, yeah, seems like so many people have that lately," said Comprof. "My son's got it, too, my one-year-old son. I'm trying really hard not to get it."
    "Aww, that's too bad [for him]," said Danielle.
    "Gotta stay away from these bronchitis people!" Comprof joked to Professor Mine Enemy as PME passed us, descending the stairs.
    "What are you talking about?" said Professor Mine Enemy in a ghastly death-croak.
    Brielle, Danielle and I exploded with laughter. Comprof gave an only half-joking cry of horror. Professor Mine Enemy grinned and continued on to the offices.


    3. Dr. Mac, having just dismissed us from Philosophy (critical thinking), turned to his four- or six-year-old son (not sure which one it was), who had been writing on the whiteboard during the last few minutes and distracting us all in the best possible way.
     "Mount," he said, correcting his boy's spelling. "With a U. 'Zeus lived on Mount Olympus.' That's moont you've got there." Having thus pronounced, he erased the top half of the second O of Moont Olympus.
    His boy did not seem bothered.