Street Dreams

Chapter 7 - Horns and Halos

    Niall stood before a class full of eager learners; that was what he wanted to believe, anyway.  Most of them were too busy whispering among each other, or doing their best to appear unaffected by the day and bored with life.  Why were they so jaded?  They were too young for such apathy. The chalk clicked and slid against the black board.  Yes, he could have used the overhead projector with a computer, but he liked the board, the feel and sound of the white stick announcing itself and the work it was doing.

    Though the students did not know it, each conversation touched his ears. There was a tell-tale, 'I know right?' murmured in the back of the classroom, and he already knew that they were talking about him.  It was something he had become accustomed to.  He acknowledged that he was an attractive man, however, he did not like his students lingering on it.

    The girl in question was a burgundy-haired young woman, sitting with a knee propped on her desk.  Her hands held her cellphone, and she was paying more attention to the girl next to her than the board.  "Ashleigh, maybe you would like to solve this problem for the class."

    Guilt flitted across her face before being expertly hidden. The fact that she hadn't been paying attention was caught. "Uh, I don't feel very good."

    Niall shook his head, "Alright, it might be the cellphone and its radiation bothering you. I'd suggest putting it away, please."

    She did so; and to her merit, it was not pulled out again up to the end of class. That happened to be fifteen minutes later. Soon his class was empty. He had been substituting for the Algebra teacher.  He normally taught Science.  Luckily, he also knew how to teach Mathematics, so he covered when he was needed.  The school was short enough on teachers. It was usually when he had particularly difficult classes that the longed for flavor of smoke and tobacco was strongest in his memory. He had given up smoking when he took his initial vows.  He was to give up all worldly possessions. The class day was over, and he had papers to grade.  It would be easy enough to read over them, and be done with it soon. However, he wanted to go home.

    When he got to his small cell, allowed to him by Monsignor Abraham, he laid down in his bed. The papers were left, to be graded later, on the small nightstand.  There wasn't much to the small room, just the bed, the nightstand, and a closet. Otherwise, it was very bare. He did not mind it, as he had taken the vows.  He never felt particularly attached to objects; so it was not a large loss. As he laid down, he closed his eyes and let himself dissipate. His body became light, and soon, he would no longer be in the small cell.

    When his eyes opened again, Niall saw a far more familiar room, though it was quite different from the one he had laid down in. It was still relatively simple, with round walls painted in a light blue pattern instead of the dull-colored square, various shades of blue merged and swirled around him.  There was nothing truly permanent about this world, except that it existed. Niall slipped from his bed, the familiar, one-room, home was his. It was larger than the one he'd gone to "sleep" in, though not by any considerable measure, it was maybe the size of a typical middle-class house's den. In the room, all trappings he might need existed. Eating was not something that his people had to worry about, so there was no kitchen. Instead, there was a couch, his bed, a few tables and nightstand.  The walls had the only "permanent" objects in the room. Items he had brought over with him, a clock, though time worked a lot differently, here, several posters, or pictures, some from bands he happened to find, even one of those posters that had a kitten hanging on a rope.

    Clothes were also optional. Niall looked at himself in a mirror, his body looking so different to what it was there. His body was similar enough that one might see him in it, though his shoulders were broader, his waist narrower, as only is possible in a dream.  His skin was blue, similar to that of parts of his wall, a pattern of swirls also moving over his skin.  His hair, now long, falling almost to the floor, was a light brown, not particularly red, nor particularly blonde, just brown. His eyes, larger, and almost alien, like the ones you usually see on grey aliens, almost matched his hair in color. No nose to speak of was evident on his face, instead, he had two, small, holes that may have acted like one with two small curved extensions that might have looked like very flat nostrils. Three bony ridges rose above them. The ridges were mostly decorative, at least he figured that they were, giving him a very bat-like appearance. He wore a robe and a pair of trousers similar to those worn during the Sassanian dynasty in Persia.  Heavily embroidered, the robe closed in the front, though he wore it open, the sleeves reached his elbows, open from there, and hanging. The trousers were baggy and comfortable.  He had not seen himself like this in a long time.