Mr. Murphy was late. He was the new, young professor with barely a couple of year’s teaching experience. And he was very late.
His coat was hanging half-open, the first two buttons of his shirt had come undone, and one could perceive a small stain on the collar. His boots were not polished like usual, one had been trampled into mud and as he strode hastily into the lecture hall, it squelched against the wooden floor.
There was a slight cut on his jaw, perhaps which he got while shaving in a hurry that morning. He carried a cup of coffee in one hand and cradled some books and folders in his other arm.
Just as he was walking towards the podium, he suddenly tripped. The cup flew out of his grasp and hot coffee spilled everywhere. The books tumbled to his feet.
His glasses were dangling preacariously as he slowly tried to gather his things from the floor. The whole room was silent.
He carefully started picking up the scattered loose papers which had fallen out of the folders. And with a nervous chuckle he murmured, ”Uh.. I’m sorry for this mess”. He looked up and glanced around the room briefly.
A student finally got up to help him arrange his stuff on the table. It broke the tension in the air, few students started talking in low voices, they kept exclaiming, ‘how clumsy he is’. And it was a welcome chaos. It helped Mr. Murphy to get over his initial embarassment.
Then clearing his throat ceremoniously, he asserted his authority on the class once again, and began his lecture.
“Today we will be discussing about the Market Structure in the economy and how we can…. ”
But what Mr. Murphy didnt notice was how the guy sitting at the corner was observing him.
Carson at that moment was watching him intently, trying to fabricate a story about this new ‘clumsy’ professor. A faint smile of amusement tugging at his lips as he scribbled in his notepad.