Becoming The Overman

THE OVERMAN LAID stomach up on the floor of his Sociology classroom, his old hat folded up behind his head. Him, in all his glory of tie, vest and brown-suede Members Only jacket, only twenty years too late, sleeping in the darkness where there would soon be a room full of students and a teacher in the front, spouting off her language of social problems, of which the Overman knew a few.

When the first student came in and turned on the light, he awoke with a smiling start and danced for a solid five minutes, and the three that appeared did laugh at his wild ways of inconsistency. When the teacher entered the room, albeit three minutes late, he calmed himself and sat into his chair in the back of the room. Including the older woman at the front of the classroom, there were five people there. And as she began her lecture, the Overman laughed.

It was at first to himself, but then he could not hold it in and it burst like a lemon onto the table. The teacher lady spoke of "Sexuality." The Overman couldn't help but laugh. And so, she asked the boy.

"What is so funny?" And he tried to explain, oh so did he try, but alas he failed and, laughing still, he walked from the room and never came back. Five minutes out of a three hour class, and he laughed all the way home.