Raphael sat at the kitchen table, peering at the coarse ochre clay mug before him. Jenny had left some twenty minutes ago to drop Juanito off at kindergarten and run errands before meeting Raphael at the university. It was Tuesday and they both taught classes on Tuesday, while Raphael had administrative paperwork to attend to as well. He’d been made head of the Spanish department seven months ago, and though the extra money really helped, Raphael loathed filling out the endless reams of documents that seemed to go straight from his desk into a vacuum. That is, unless he happened to check the wrong box on a sheet of thousands. Then no sooner did the document leave his office then through the window climbed Mrs. Thurman from Records, the same document clenched between her teeth and she ready to point out his most recent error.