Visceral | Laura Spencer

I'm sitting in class and the room is packed to the brim, so I have to either sit near the front or way in the back. The room is long rather than wide so it seems as though one is very far away from the front if you choose the back. I generally choose the front. If one chooses the front inevitably you must sit right next to the overhead projector. The arm of the projector juts up into the air blocking my view of the professor. All that I can see of my professor becomes his adam's apple bobbing up and down on his long, skinny neck.
I sit in class and try to focus on his voice so I can take notes, but the motion of the professor's throat as he speaks absorbs my whole attention. The professor's neck is tenuous looking as if it can barely support the rather large head attatched to the neck. The neck weaves and dips dangerously trying to stay under the head as it is constantly whipped from side to side. The adam's apple bulges out of the thin column. It will break out at any moment. Oh, wait--everyone is leaving. Is it time to go? What did we talk about?