Mrs. Bourg said. “Phyllis Joiner, you’re first. Please come to the front of the room.” Phyllis was the one with stringy, dirty blonde hair, but she was no longer nervous. Like a mannequin, she stood dutifully in front of the class. She wore old jeans ripped at the knees and a yellowed t-shirt with a Pennzoil motor oil logo. Her hair was oily and uncombed, and she emitted an acrid body odor. But most unfortunate was that she had blue eyes that bulged out of her sockets, as if they were being pushed out of her skull. She wore an expression of eternal surprised fear. “Tell us the truth about yourself,” Mrs. Bourg instructed. Under the hypnotic spell, Phyllis complied. “Well, um, I usually don’t talk much. Um, everyone makes fun of me.” She looked at the floor. “But the reason my eyes bulge out,” she said quietly, “is because I have a thyroid problem. I have Grave’s disease. It’s an auto-immune disorder.
