found drama

Late for an appointment.  An office building.  She holds the door for me; her kids looks too big to be in that stroller.  We’re both headed to different floors but we also both hit the wrong button.  In the mirrored reflection of the elevator door, I can see that I’m not me.  It’s not (quite) my body.  Regardless, something is wrong with the elevator.  The buttons correspond with the wrong floors.  “1” takes you to the top, “2” is next from the top, and so on.  Only the ground floor makes sense (“Lobby”) because even the basement is “wrong” (“roof”).

I eventually find my floor where my class (!?!?) is.  Today we’re reviewing our most recent exams.  Everyone has bombed and the teacher (A.?) has decided to give us the opportunity to decide which ones to throw out.  Maybe that would even the scores out a bit?  No, we’ve all done horribly.  What’s weird however is that even as we review the exam questions, I can answer all of them correctly orally.  Even the questionable, difficult, and controversial answers are ones that I can successfully defend.  But somehow they’re still all wrong, all the way down the page.  But it hasn’t even been me speaking out loud this whole time, has it?  It’s someone else.  Everyone else has been speaking but me.

About Rob Friesel