Kelly

She wrote my name at the top of the page of her diary, next to the day and the date. 

The conversation had begun in the way which I have been seeking to create them myself, but she was the creator. 

She asked me, somewhat bluntly, in the slow-syllable way she spoke, what my name was. 

Drawing a border around the word she'd written, she then asked what I was doing here. 

It was a strange way to phrase a banal question. Her straggly, mouse-coloured bun nodded with her as she listen to me explain my orientation within university. 

She started a bachelor with a major in ecological major - a stream which was such down within a year, due to lack of interest.

I am taking a cultural-studies major, something that has also been consigned to the flames of history. It's all 'specialisations' now; psychology, journalism, digital media, multimedia.

The 'Aims & Objectives' paragraph on the Bachelor of Arts website reads 

'The Bachelor of Arts degree is designed to produce graduates who are able to contribute effectively and professionally to a dynamic global economy'

She traces another line around my name in her diary as we share a silence.