Short Stories

Wild hair and crazy eyes

“Are you still working?”

I look up and see my lecturer in front of me.

“Yes.”

“It’s a Friday night, why don’t you go out and have some fun?” As he says this he puts his hands on his hips and does a little jig, all crazy eyes and bouncing hair.

I smile indulgently. “I really ought to…”

“What?” he said, pulling my work toward him. “What is so important?”

I let him. I can’t stop him, after all he is one of the most brilliant men in the world. He scans the work and his brow furrows.

“I can see…” He reached out a hand. “Pen?” I place mine between his fingers.

Then his hand flies, the numbers and words flowing from the pen.

Finally, he hands me back the script.

There on the bottom, in his scrawl, I see a couple of sentences. I immediate realise he has encoded a message. My first reaction is annoyance. This is my manuscript and he has marked it, effectively stopping my flow of words. The next is excitement. What has he said?

“I’ll be back in five minutes and you better be ready,” he says, sauntering out of the room.

I settle to work. It doesn’t take long…

It’s Friday. Get your coat… We are off out.

I smile and look up. He is stood there with my coat in his hand and a cheeky grin.

This post is inspired by the daily prompt – dream teacher.

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