Often I wake up at night, and I’m not sure why.

Maybe the refrigerator compressor kicked on. Or the moon was shining through the window. I am a light sleeper.

If it happens at two or three in the morning, I fluff my two pillows and nod off. If it’s later, say four-thirty or five, it’s not so easy. Still, if I turn on my side or onto my stomach, I usually go back to sleep. And it seems that whenever I get seven hours or more, I dream.

The dreams are all different, but some have a common theme.

In one of them I am wearing a suit jacket and tie, walking through the hallway of my school building. No one is in sight because I am late to an English teachers’ meeting. I am hurrying, sweating, wanting to loosen my tie. When I finally enter the room where my dean and the other teachers wait, th

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