Common Ground (The Common Ground Trilogy Book 1) by Barry Chaison Read Free Book Online Page B

studies professor was also my University advisor, which meant we’d have to talk about my four year plan. Since none of the other professors had piqued my interest in their subjects, I was extremely worried that he’d be expecting some ideas of what I wanted to do, and I’d have nothing. My only hope was that he’d just want to ask me a few questions, get to know the kind of student I was and then let me go. But I had a feeling that because he was my advisor, he’d probably want to talk a little more in depth.
    As I entered his office, I had to rub my eyes to make sure I wasn’t dreaming again. It was absolutely magnificent. There were hundreds of framed awards, recognition letters and honorary degrees hanging all over. I also noticed tons of pictures hanging along the opposite wall showing all of his various travels around the world. Just from the appearance of his office, I could tell that he was one of those professors that President Goodwin talked about the first day.
    “Hi, I’m Zoe Christensen and I have an appointment with Professor Woodard at eleven,” I told his secretary, as I approached her immaculate desk which was flanked by two huge fern plants.  She was a thicker set woman, more similar to Hope than any of the other people I’d met at school. She sat behind a massive computer monitor, and appeared quite happy.
    “Ah, Zoe, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” she said in a very friendly voice. “Is there anything I can get you while you wait?”
    “No, nothing, thank you,” I said as my palms started to sweat.
    “My name is Annabelle if you need anything dear. He should be out in a few minutes, he’s finishing up a phone call,” she finished as she led me to a seat outside his door then returned to her desk.
    Annabelle reminded me immediately of Marie, as she had a very distinct motherly charm and appearance. A thick set of reading glasses hung around her neck and rested softly on her chest, and shoulder length, silky brunette hair surrounded a face that lacked a lot of punch. A simple, yet antique-looking diamond wedding ring sat perfectly on her left hand. But, over everything, it was the sweet, kindly smile that was so comforting and welcoming. 
    About five minutes had passed and my anxiety grew with each passing second.  The flawless office and the motherly secretary were far above anything any of my other professors had. I started to bite my nails, which led Annabelle to give me a very polite and reassuring smile. All of a sudden, her phone rang.
    “Professor Woodward is ready to see you now,” she said, opening up the office door.
    I walked in and was immediately greeted by a powerful scent of fine wood and old books. The reputable aura from the exterior was clearly evident inside. There was a time honored respect surrounding the interior, as though a rich and powerful history was behind it. It wasn’t very technologically advanced as there was only a simple telephone and no computer or TV anywhere. He had thousands of books stacked on bookshelves that covered every spare inch of wall space, with many more neatly piled up in the corners.  He had a beautiful mahogany desk, which gleamed as the sunlight bounced off of it. The top of the desk was the only messy, unorganized area of the office. There was a thin layer of papers strewn all over, which rested below what looked like old and fragile wooden artifacts. His desk was accompanied by an enormous brown oak, white clothed chair, which reminded me more of a throne, with its smooth scrolled arms and high back. His desk sat in front of a full window that covered the wall and faced out the opposite end of campus into the open desert, which reminded me fondly of the Johnson’s kitchen. I barely noticed that it was somewhat dark in there, with the only light coming in from outside. Finally, I noticed two more simple chairs on the other side of his desk that faced each other in an interview style format. It completed what was the most