Rumor Mill

          Lia pondered the question for a moment before she answered, “He kinda reminds me of an owl.  He’s got this fluffy tuft of white hair framing his face, and his eyes always seem to be open just a little too wide.  And, if you watch closely, he moves his arms like a bird resettling its wings.  They even make weird fluttering movements when he talks.  He also poofs his mouth out—not the exact shape of a beak, but close enough considering.”

            Jules tossed her hair off of her shoulder and tucked her hands into her jean pockets.  Lia could not help but admire the cascade of silky black hair which fell to Jules’s waist.  The quick spark of jealousy sent her left hand up to finger her own locks.  Her hair felt smooth beneath her fingertips, but every time she looked in the mirror, Lia was confronted with the truth of her wild and frizzy mouse brown curls.

            Jules voice interrupted her thoughts.  “I’ll give you that one.  I always thought a squirrel fit him better—bushy tail coming to attention every time a student speaks.  I can definitely picture Professor Gillard as an owl though.”

            “Kind of rings with the whole questioning act of philosophy too, doesn’t it?  Who? Who? Who!”