Did I Miss Anything?
Tom Wayman
From: The Astonishing Weight of the Dead. Vancouver: Polestar, 1994.
Nothing. When we realized you weren't here we sat with our hands folded on our desks in silence, for the full two hours.
Everything. I gave an exam worth 40 per cent of the grade for
this term and assigned some reading due today on which I'm about to
hand out a quiz worth 50 per cent.
Nothing. None of the content of this course has value or meaning.
Take as many days off as you like: any activities we undertake as a class I assure you will not matter either to you or me and are without purpose.
Everything. A few minutes after we began last time a shaft of light
descended and an angel or other heavenly being appeared and revealed to
us what each woman or man must do to attain divine wisdom in this life
and the hereafter.
This is the last time the class will meet before we disperse to bring this good news to all people on earth.
Nothing. When you are not present how could something significant occur?
Everything. Contained in this classroom is a microcosm of human
existence assembled for you to query and examine and ponder.
This is not the only place such an opportunity has been gathered.
but it was one place
And you weren't here.