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[Action: Kevin walks through door of classroom on first evening of night class ]

[Action: quickly scanning the room, Kevin's eyes alight on one person; his eyes go wide { closeup of eyes } ]

Kevin: { whispered } �Oh my gawd...�

[Action: Kevin stumbles back out door of classroom, wades a few feet away ]

[Action: enter M, who gets up from the front row of the classroom and jogs out the door after Kevin ]

[Action: M catches up to Kevin, their eyes meet once again ]

M: �Wait! Kevin?�

Kevin: { with an almost imperceptible hint of disgust } �Oh my gawd, it is you�

[Action: M puts her hands on Kevin's upper arms ]

[Action: Kevin makes lazy, unspirited attempt to break free ]

M: �Please don't blow me off... Just wait�

Kevin: { with shock and disbelief evident } �What the hell are YOU doing here??�

M: { without an ounce of irony in voice } �I'm in this class�

Kevin: �What?? This is an upper-level business foundation course�

M: �I know--it's my first upper-level class�

Kevin: �So, last thing I knew of you, you barely had a ninth grade education, you were snorting coke up your nose and fucking two guys out in the open at a party�

M: { embarrassed and aware of all the passing eyes suddenly on her } �That was a long time ago; I've cleaned up my life and made alot of changes; you should learn to keep your mouth shut once in a while�

Kevin: �Oh... sorry; so...� { long pause } �you're really in this class?�

M: { visibly swallowing her pride } �Let's go sit down, it's almost time for class; we'll talk during the break�

Kevin: { still somewhat dazed } �Okay�

[Action: Kevin and M reenter classroom together ]

And that's pretty much the way it happened. Can you believe it? It's the most improbable scenario. It probably violates causal virtue.

It was, of course, a dream I just woke up from. Sometimes, though, I do wonder what became of M. It seems too easy to just say she's gotta be either dead or in prison. It would be pretty easy to forecast drug addiction, a sleazy and short-lived porn career, a miserable marriage, several welfare kids squirted out, a trailer, and/or alcoholism as well.

But what if she really did turn things around? Becoming normal--that is, able to hold a job, keep an apartment, pay for a running car, keep the drugs to a low roar, maybe read a magazine article here and there--would be a great advance for her.

I have had a moment or two of panic here and there at school and in town when I thought, for a second, that I was looking at she. And as this diary post explains, I do have dreams (sometimes pleasant, often unpleasant) from time to time about what might have happened.

Next time: situation brief returns with #5!