He scornfully observes the children spilling out of the chapel. From his lofty vantage point, he can view their subconscious group movements. Unbound by hastily made contracts with traditionalist academic institutions, he does not have to attend chapel.
The library offers feelings of knowledge and grandeur: safety through silence. It also offers floor to ceiling windows and a temporary aura of superiority over his seniors.
He shifts uncomfortably, knowing that within minutes of chapel dismissal, dozens of kids will pour into the library to study, research, and perform other eternally meaningless tasks.
His misgivings are validated: an overweight incel chooses to sit down with only one desk between them. Out of the nine or so desks he could have chosen, this scrub elects to plop his genetically poor, anglo-saxon, disease prone body one desk away. Female dog please.
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