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Run. Run faster. RUN. You must keep running. The bell tower says you've got two minutes to pull this off, but you know there's no way.

The deluge of bodies barricades everything as you burst through the heavy glass doors. You'd probably have a chance if they would just MOVE. Perhaps they don't realize the gravity of the situation (is it possible they can't hear the frantic pounding of your heart in your heaving chest?). Squeezing through to the edge of the crowd, you realize that you should have prayed for the professor's cat to have colon failure, for a volcanic eruption to bury downtown in lava, for anything to distract her so that it could have bought you at least a couple of minutes.

After some more furious pushing, you begin to see the other side of the walkway. You're finally able to separate yourself from that "sardine can" feeling. You begin running again. Why, oh why did you pick today of all mornings to sleep through the alarm? In your defense, you had no idea that your presentation for class was going to take all night to prepare. And who knew the bus was going to be late again? Oh, wait, everyone at the stop knew. Once again, your inability to plan ahead sufficiently has left you in a panic-stricken bind.

No time to be too down on yourself. Keep pumping your aching legs, as the entrance of the destination building is now within inches of your outstretched fingertips. Three entrances, which one to pick?

The right is closest to you--NO! You forgot that the one on the right is always locked from the outside!

Rush to the middle! No, move! There's someone coming through--and all her classmates! There's pulsing mass of students filling the entryway!

Dash to the left! Yes, it's open and unoccupied! You wrench it open and throw your momentum to the elevators. Thankfully, everyone else who had been blocking the way is now in class, leaving a clear path for you to pummel the Up arrow. Without hesitation, a pair of doors opens to admit you, all panting and sweaty as you shakily hit the button for Floor 6.

Then, just as the doors are closing to finally take you to your class, a hand--no, three hands shoot out to hold them open! You stare in horror as five of the students blocking the middle door pile in, two laughing about how they forgot to talk to the professor about their final. You literally cross your fingers with the hope that they all have to go to 6 with you. But, lo and behold, one pushes 3, then another one pushes 4, and yet another one pushes 5! You resist the urge to begin ripping out fistfuls of your unwashed hair (if only you'd had time for a shower?) as the elevator slowly climbs to Floor 3. Two of the students step out. You check your watch. Stomach acrobatics ensue as you see that you're almost five minutes late for class. Hopefully the professor will take an inordinate amount of time to get things rolling. Why did today have to be presentation day?!

After the elevator has disemboweled itself of all other riders, it finally takes you to Floor 6. Once the doors open, a bullet from the barrel of a gun would look like the proverbial tortoise in the first leg of the race compared to your hare-like sprinting. Down the hall, second door on the right, throw open the door--

The room is empty. Could this be?? Yes. There's a note taped to the door:

Class has been cancelled today. See you tomorrow!