Addicted

She gave me a taste, just a tiny taste, then I wanted more, much like the heroin addict or the first taste of blood by the new vampire. I felt it in my heart and tasted it and knew that it was something great. Every week, she gave me more and I wanted more and soon, I wanted it more than just once a week so I used alone, mostly at night, when Mr. Zelda was watching television. My hands trembled as I opened the sustaining packages of each and every new product that I tried. Sometimes I trembled at the rush of complications and other times I giggled and wanted more and more.
She gave me a taste and soon I craved it and she had it every time I needed it and when I was curious about more, she gave it to me.
From that taste and into that craving, she turned me into an addict and for five semesters she gave it to me free, isn’t that what they are supposed to do? I mean really good professors; make you into addicts I mean.
Fortunately, my addiction isn’t illegal, thus I will never be forced into a 12-step program, and since the language is dead, I won’t have to speak it, just read.
Latin, gotta love it.