Thursday, October 12, 2017

At Liberty

I had a dream about him. I don't believe that our dreams necessarily mean anything. I don't follow Freud, but sometimes I feel they are creative material (I constantly dream I'm a man with a real package and everything--but does that mean I'm trans? Probably not). So, I had this dream. I was in his class, visiting and I refused to look at him. In fact, during the entire dream, I never saw him at all. I was in the back, and I was coloring with real Crayons. At some point, he came up behind me and held me, and then, I realized immediately, that it was a dream--not reality. I highly doubt he would ever do such a thing, but it's even less likely in front of other students.

When I saw him sitting down on the ledge of the bushes, and talking to his students, I wanted to walk up to him, kiss him on the cheek, and say, "Hi, honey, how's work?"

But I'd probably had to deal with the English Division Chair over that one. Some lecture about how I can't harass the good, god-fearin' folk of English professors.

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