Getting Off The Track

CALLUM STANFORD

post36

A few days later, I had a meeting with the course tutor and received a roasting for producing a sub-standard essay. She was right, of course, because my essay was rubbish. She ordered me to read the set texts again and produce better work. I took it on the chin, left the room, went slowly down the stairwell surrounded by wooden panelling and onto the pathway outside. It was a breezy November morning as I walked, the imposing History building to my right and walled gardens to the left. A few students mingled around the benches. Others sat on a low wall.

Despite the swirl of red and purple leaves, everything looked grey on that late autumnal day. I thought about the awful feedback on my first essay and the monotony of the course. I couldn’t seem to think in the way that was required. It made me feel really…

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