BYU is different: nobody talks in the library, the book shelves move, and people always fall asleep. I finished a paper an hour before class and laid it down next to my computer, which I shut so I could take a quick nap. I put my forehead on my arm, and my hand reached out with my finger pads softly on the corners of both the computer and the paper.
I didn’t want anyone to still them. No sooner after lying my head down, however, did I start dreaming. I dreamed that Chandler, Dan, and Ivor quietly approached my table. Ivor stood back smiling while Chandler lifted my computer up with two hands, and Dan pinched the corner of my paper trying so hard to be sneaky. They walked off without me skipping a beat of soft sighs that come with a mid-day nap.
As students always do when they wake up in the library, I had a red forehead. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel the texture of my sleeve tattooed on my forehead. After I few seconds of descending from my nirvana nap, I realized my laptop and paper were gone. I looked to my right and then to my left. I looked in my computer bag and then in my book bag—nothing. Each second that went by got worse. My face, I’m sure, started to match the mark on my forehead with the consequences of loosing my paper and, worse, my computer. Finally, I stood up looking under my chair and desk as if they accidently rolled off the table like my pen lid does sometimes; yeah, at this point I was pretty much desperate.
Meanwhile, at 12:00 (the direction), Chandler, Dan, and Ivor hid behind a pillar laughing. It cut through the quit library. Dan borrowed one end of Ivor’s scarf to cover his notorious deep laugh while Ivor used the other end to cover his own laugh. Chandler used both ends of his scarf because apparently it was extra funny to him. If I had any sense of resoluteness in me, I would have noticed it. But I was focused on one thing—finding what I lost.
Right then I woke up, but I didn’t lift my head up. I pressed my finger pads down to see if my computer was still there along with the paper. Just a dream, I thought, smirking to myself about my Rexburgian writers.
Do you see what kind of impact all you had on me? I think about all of you daily.
Oh yeah, I’m engaged. Yes, I’m excited, but I can’t put an exclamation point because Sister Morgan will probably see this.