'Hey Herc! Hey Herc!'

It is Thursday afternoon. The long weekend is about to birth itself.
That's right.
Birth itself.
Even now I get papers back from professors, and they've written 'syntax' next to some meandering sentence or another.
My life's a sham.
It's four in the afternoon before the long weekend. My classmates' brains are on standby.
I'm learning about anarchism.
The window allows a view overlooking the campus.
I always find myself peeking out of the window during terrorism because I'm watching to see if my car is being ticketed across the pond.
I'm not sure what I would do if it were getting ticketed.
Get up in a flourish. Bang on the window. "Wait! I'll move it!"
Anyway, a hercules C-130 flies over the building. I watch it.
The professor has to stop his lecture.
"I believe there's a plane outside," the professor states, loudly.
"Yeah, it's a really big one."
Everyone looks at me.
"...That's why it's so loud," I mutter.
People stop looking at me.
I check on my car.