![hunger roxane gay pdf free hunger roxane gay pdf free](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/41yj-9qCLcL._SL500_.jpg)
My publication record would have been outstanding thirty years ago. I’ve been at the university for four years, building my portfolio for tenure. This is embarrassing to write, because I recognize the cliché more than most, but I teach creative writing and literature. As one of the more junior faculty members, she thought I would be a perfect fit to sit on the committee. Again, the phone dinged, following the old rule of three.
![hunger roxane gay pdf free hunger roxane gay pdf free](https://s2.r29static.com/bin/entry/61e/0,729,2000,1500/x/1829869/image.png)
More bubbles should be expected, she said. An email from the dean-mandatory emergency faculty meeting that afternoon. My phone dinged with an emergency alert from the university. When I returned to my office, my laptop and lunch were gone. We didn’t know where it was going, only that we would never see the girl again. A football wobbled down the middle of the road, forgotten. Students were everywhere, congregating in little circles on their smartphones and scarfing hot dogs on benches emblazoned with the names of dead faculty and hurrying from place to place on every imaginable manner of scooter and skateboard and bicycle. It was a sun-soaked afternoon-spring had arrived. I forgot to lock my office and followed her outside. The bubble exited the open double doors out of Walton Hall’s grand entrance and floated above the long expanse of shallow concrete steps. The girl pounded on the diaphanous interior, but the bubble didn’t budge. One brave boy attempted to lunge at the bubble, but now it was solid, and he couldn’t get a grip on its round surface. The other students wedged against the walls, most in tears, a communal panic attack. The orb briefly caved before it enveloped her body, and we watched, dumbfounded, as she drifted back down the hall trapped inside its center. At the time, I wondered how she knew the bubble was specifically coming for her. In her white Chucks and distressed jeans and red t-shirt with the university’s shrieking mascot across the front, black hair in a tidy ponytail, she collapsed to the ground. A young woman at the end of the hall began screaming. It passed right through them, as if they were ghosts, or as if it was a ghost-I’ve never been certain. Students attempted to move out of the bubble’s path, but it didn’t matter.
![hunger roxane gay pdf free hunger roxane gay pdf free](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/41S4yvewK-L._SY291_BO1,204,203,200_QL40_ML2_.jpg)
#HUNGER ROXANE GAY PDF FREE WINDOWS#
The rays prodded through the row of windows on the far side of Walton Hall, brightening the whole second floor. The sun was at my favorite point of the afternoon. After the bubble glided past, I rose and walked to the door to expand my view. In size, the bubble was perhaps as big as the kind of puny electric car you can wedge into half a parking spot. Neither glassy nor soapy, it was more like a clear coat of glue floating along, but it never stuck to anything. The texture of the bubble was not what I expected. A framed poster of Paul Newman lying across a pool table with a book in his hand-part of an old American Library Association READ campaign-was taped in the corner. I had situated my dented oak desk to face the threshold, hoping to be more approachable, nestled back in an inviting cove of saggy bookshelves and gray file cabinets, the vintage avocado mini fridge in the corner crammed with my sack lunch and colorful cans of flavored sparkling water for guests. My office walls were bunker bricks painted white-a secure area in case of an emergency. I was in my campus office grading a stack of exploratory research papers when the first bubble I ever saw in person drifted down the narrow hallway past my open door.