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The Colleague | The Dreamweaver

Writer's picture: The DreamweaverThe Dreamweaver

I was back at my old high school where I was working as a teacher and ran into my wife, who was also on staff there, in the hall between classes.


She stopped me and asked me if I could get a short passage of the book translated into Portuguese and told me there was a new teacher at school who spoke the language fluently and would I find him and ask if he would translate the text.


I started walking towards the classroom I thought the new teacher might be in and found him sitting behind the desk while his class was busy at work.


I knocked on the door and the man waved me over. I introduced myself and asked him if he might have some time to translate a short text.


He agreed and just then I noticed I didn't actually have the book and told him I needed to go to my wife's office to get the text and that I would be back in a few minutes.


Walking into my wife's office, she held the book up and apologized for having forgotten to give it to me as I walked away a few minutes earlier.


I returned to the new teacher's classroom just as he was dismissing his students for the day and not wanting to interrupt him, I told him I would just email the text to him if he would be so kind as to give me his email address.


He then rambled off the longest, most confusing email address imaginable, smiled and ask jokingly if I could remember all that.


Then he asked me for my phone and typed his email address in.


I thanked him and told him I'd send the text as soon as I got home.


Then I woke up.

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