Staring at the wall she could detect heat, those ripples it makes when it’s intense, but she couldn’t detect the source that should’ve been beneath it. Where was it coming from? She looked around the room. Illogical. The heat should have originated under the ripples. She looked at them again, pondering heat reflecting on the wall like shadows cast on the side of rock at a bonfire, then caught sight of the ceiling fan from the corner of her eye. The lights were turned down in the classroom for planning time, for peace, for pretending she wasn’t there; the shadow was thanks to the natural light coming through the window. Mystery solved she looked at the wall only impressed at how it still looked like heat ripples but when her attention was averted ever slightly it could clearly be seen the turning fan was casting a reflection, a shadow in motion.