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I thought about the swim we had taken the night before. It seemed like a beautiful, beautiful dream. I tried to imagine her eyes, her smile, and her lips. I recalled her laughter and that funny little giggle.I couldn't wait to see her, even if it was only going to be for a few days. I headed back to my tent, realizing that I would have to make the most of the next two days.That night I had a dream. I dreamt I was running after Anna on a beach. She was wearing a white silky gown. She looked beautiful. By the light of the moon, I could just make out the shape of her body through the sheer material. I ran after her, but she was always just a little bit ahead of me. I tried to run faster, but I just couldn't catch up with her.She would occasionally turn her head to see where I was. The look on her face gradually turned from joyous play, to evident concern. Eventually she faded into the mist and was gone.I woke up in a sweat. I was so upset that I had to get up and walk around the. He ran out into the hall with a half-open ream of copy paper in his hands.And there was one of his former English students, a skinny junior, standing in the middle of the hall with his hair in his eyes and a big, smoking pistol in his hand."Michael," the teacher said loudly, feeling his left knee buckle. "What are you doing?"The boy turned toward him, waved the big pistol in his general direction and blinked several times. He looked lost, confused. The powder smell was very strong, overpowering. Something deep inside the teacher tensed, his heartbeat quickened. Run, demanded his brain. He took another step.The teacher noticed that there was a star-shaped hole in one of the reinforced widows of the front doors and that the drinking fountain between the first-floor restrooms was spraying water. He felt as if he had a golf ball or something in his shoe. He took a step, limping, a bit confused. Now what are you doing, said his brain, refusing to locomote, urging flight."We'd better get.
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