Graduation Project

“Unicorn colors?” Simmons said. “What’s next? Puppies and Hello Kitty?”

Deanna shrugged. “It’s an art school thing. Whose name was on the back of the postit?”

“Blake’s,” he answered, studying Deanna for any hint of a reaction.  In his three years at school, he had never seen Deanna Adams have a visible reaction to a postit pull. Odd thing, for an art school- to have a professor with such a stone-like face.

“Bold choice,” Deanna said as picked up her teacup and she sat back in her chair. You think you can succeed where others failed?”

Simmons looked up at the interlocking A’s that formed the logo of the school. Failure would be catastrophic. Everyone thought it meant The Adams School of Art.  Ignorant idiots. “It wasn’t like I had a choice.”

“None of us do.”

As she sipped her tea Simmons thought he saw the faintest hint of a smile. Did she want him to succeed where others failed? Or did she want Blake to chalk up another win? “All the normal rules are in play?”

Deanna nodded. “Blake will be unaware of your assignment, as is the rest of the student body. I will grade you on speed, creativity, and of course, the final result. Any last questions?”

“One,” he said looking back up to the interlocking A’s. The school of Artistry and Assassination. “Why are approving the assassination of your husband?”

Deanna Adams smiled coldly. “To make things happen of course. Good luck, Mr. Simmons.”