A Dream

I was in college. I was sitting in a bright and small-ish classroom. He appeared as my favorite professor, standing at the podium and telling us that this would be his last class.

My heart sank: Gone? Really? Forever? Is this farewell? I teared up. Disappointment swept over me.

The sun shone through the window behind it. He seemed ... happier, more open, and more "readable" than his usual self, which always seemed mysterious and impenetrable like a dark pond with unknown depth. He talked like a Californian, about nature, environmental protection, organic living, etc., etc.

(After I woke up, it struck me that the California element probably came from the memory of attending a college in Southern California, although at that time I had no idea about all the Californianisms.)

...

I walked through a narrow corridor and came upon a small ice skating rink. Brandon Mroz and another skater (must have been Ryan Bradley although I could not be sure) were practicing on the ice. Tom Zakrasjek and his permanent maid Becky Calvin were standing at the other end. Suddenly Brandon skated over and winked at me. I was so surprised that I forgot to acknowledge the wink.

I continued walking down the narrow corridor. Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and saw a rather thin Jeff Goldblum. He looked shorter and thus more approachable than his purported self (I have never seen him in real life, but I heard he is quite tall). He smiled at me conspiratorially, "We can't just let him go, can we?"

I immediately understood what he meant but feigned ignorance. "Who?" I said, my heart pounding. He pulled me into a glass, window-less room and sat me down, and handed me a piece of paper. It was a petition to the professor, asking him to stay. I realized that I was supposed to sign it. "We can't let him get away from us, can we?" He said again with the conspiratorial smile and a twinkle in his eye. "We have to find him first," he said, and then instructed me to go to so-and-so building where the faculty offices resided.

...

I was walking down the corridor again and entered a large office with a sea of cubicles and bright lights. People and noises were all around me.

Suddenly I saw the professor's back in front of me. Nervously I called out to him, "Sir! Sir!" He turned around briefly and I blurted out, "Mr. Goldblum has been looking for you. He asked me to find you and tell you."

He nodded and received the slip of paper. I quickly turned around and walked out of the office. Why did I have no courage to beg him to stay? I so wanted to say the words, but my tongue was tied and my heart heavy.

Will he stay? The question remained hanging in the air.

In an office nearby, I found an album of his photographs --- not ones of him but rather photos he owned. They were beautiful and whimsical. In one photo was a bunny rabbit sitting in tall grass, who was gazing between the blades of grass at a man walking by. The man was shorter than the grass. In another photo, a beetle (or perhaps a ladybug?) was standing next to a man riding a donkey. Both the man and the donkey were a tenth the size of the bug.

I understood. "Nature is larger than man."