Some of the stories I write come from dreams I have this one I had last night I thought I would write it down before the memory begins to fade.
The man sat in one of the chairs in the reception area of the high school a little uncomfortable in the long leather coat that reached almost all the way to the top of his boots. He knew the school well he had attended the same school until about eight years earlier when he had graduated. Now he was back he had come in response to an advertisement that the school was looking for a history teacher. The interview had gone well Mr. De Wit the principal had reason to remember Jim.
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