Subject: My Old School
Author:
Posted on: 2018-05-09 17:06:00 UTC

I used to go to a school that was some sort of hexagon on the inside of a triangle. It is rumored to have been designed by a prison architect. Every day, I would gather my supplies, walk down a hallway, suddenly arrive at a wing of the school I could have sworn was in the opposite direction, and after minutes of aimless meandering, I would wind up right back where I started. I ended up having to grab hold of a good friend's backpack, with whom I shared the next class, in order to navigate the place - either that or bury my nose in a map and hope for the best.

I am the first one to accuse myself of having no sense of direction, but even my navigationally-gifted friends were not able to consistently arrive in the place they intended to arrive until a year or more had passed. Department of Geographic Aberrations, please send someone to investigate.

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