For a January afternoon, it was unusually hot; or so she felt underneath his cold stare. The air was still. He was quiet and formidable. She was quiet and meek. The wall clock ticked away loudly cutting through that heavy fog of silence.
For the lack of anything better to do, she fixated her gaze on his thick mane; which was more salt than pepper. She couldn’t help but admire his hair which was still luxuriant at his age. She felt sorry for her own hair. Exams didn’t suit her. She needed to get a hair spa done, asap.
“hmm…so from where is the material for tympanoplasty commonly taken?”, the external examiner repeated his question, breaking Debrina’s trance and she looked at him, in the eye. That very moment, a gust of wind blew in, disturbing her already distraught hair. A few locks fell wayward all over her face. Her fingers responded swiftly, gathering all the locks together and tucking them behind her right ear. As she was tucking, her fingers conspicuously brushed the skin over-lying the temporalis fascia.
Even before she realized what had happened, he broke into a smile and asked, “Why did you take so long to answer temporalis fascia? Now go and send the next person in.”
As she walked out of the door, she let out a deep sigh and thanked her luck, endlessly.
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