MOLLY

That same morning, in some little-used closet/laboratory/boiler room (a -hazardous- combination) beneath the University, a certain girl was drifting to sleep. She knew this (her present location, that is) meant that she would almost certainly be late to work, and that Bjorn would be neglected his morning walk, but she'd been reluctant to leave. She'd seen that boy again, following her. For all she knew, he was still


               [asleep outside the Unversity gates]


and she wanted nothing to do with him. If worse came to worse, she could -deal with- his somewhat obstrusive presence interrupting her post-curfew wanderings, but the thought was distasteful.
"Molly?" Dr. Cambridge poked his bespectacled head though the iron doorway. Molly raised hers lazily.
"I'm locking the door now." he informed her. Chill. He was never exactly kind (none of them were) but he wasn't unkind either, and that was enough for her. She had too little company as of late. The door screeched plaintively shut.
Molly relaxed, the heat from the boiler glowing over her. She thought about that boy again, as she slid underneath the dreamy dark water. He looked angsty. Like a poet maybe.