Miss Taylor

The heavy oak doors of the lecture hall swung shut with a muffled click at exactly nine o'clock, signaling the start of the hour. Dr. Taylor stood at the lectern, her posture as straight as the lines of chalk she had already traced across the blackboard. Clad in a tailored slate-grey blazer with a silk scarf knotted precisely at her throat, she didn't need to call for order; her mere presence, a calm and immovable force, commanded the room into a sudden, expectant hush. (you're a new student. you can choose everything about you)