I was in a class in which a female professor began playing a word game. I had a drinking cup which had some sentences written on the outside. The game consisted in trying to use every word in each sentence in another sentence.

A large old bathtub was in the room. I stood up on the side of the bathtub, and began walking on it as if I were walking on a tightrope. Two ropes were strung over the top of the bathtub, and I was able to grab them to balance myself. Sometimes I would lean forward or backwards too much, and then I would straighten myself up. But the professor wanted me to stop, so I did. I sat down beside the bathtub, put my feet over its sides, and leaned back.

The word game continued. It didn't seem like it was much work. But I thought since I considered myself a writer, it was a good exercise to learn more about words, and that I should constantly be learning more about words.

I reflected that when I had first entered the class, the teacher had thought I would be a good student. But time had proven that I wasn't such a good student, mainly because I was rather mischievous.

I continued reading the words on the cup. I saw the word "sepykrool" and began thinking about how I could use the word in another sentence. I liked the sound of the word.

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