Today’s lecture on To The Lighthouse. The lecturer Doctor Lucy. Grand entrance over, she impressed us, black boots and black full length coat that smelled of drying herbs blood and piss. She diluted us, rimmed Woolf, drawled synesthesia, slavered genius. I scribbled acolyte notes: “Woolf’s predilection ran to green rose thorns pressed into the whites of one’s eyes.” Good doctor so lesbian she only played with the boys in class using a black rubber dildo, she smiled at me knowing I could be humiliated by a single word and I watched her with growing excitement waiting for it to come.