A San Francisco dream

My new university in San Francisco was set on top of a steep hill looking down on the choppy waters of the harbor.
I was sent there by my wealthy Dad for sleeping with my Colombian housekeeper. I had got her pregnant. I was 19, she was 38 and the potential scandal was too much for my Dad to accept. He was a politician. I was in a state, feeling guilty about Alexis, the housekeeper, and at the same time desperate to run to the hills.

My Dad gave me a dump truck full of money and apologized profusely. He promised to buy me houses, holidays, cars, whatever I wanted, assuming I didn’t talk. But I wasn’t interested, I had all I needed.

The uni was a giant steel and glass dome that reflected the cloudy afternoon light. A tall mossy wall enclosed the dome and muddy trenches lined the uni’s grounds. Large iron gates led onto a winding path that allowed one through to the dome where my class was held.

I was doing a creative writing BA and for the first day we were told to bring in a short piece that best represented ourselves and our state of mind over the last few months. I had written a story I felt very proud of. However, it was a lie; it didn’t represent me at all. I’d made it up to look good. The story was about an old farmer whose crops were slowly dying from drought, but he’s happy.

Sitting in the chilly semi-circular auditorium beside my new classmates, I soon realized the homework would be more than reading out our little stories. In fact we would have to perform them on the stage under harsh spotlights.

Terror engulfed me as my classmates took to the stage with glee, pompously and pretentiously acting out their tales with large sweeping hand movements. How could I act out a farmer happily watching his crops die, losing his livelihood and perhaps his sanity?

Standing by the side of the stage waiting to go to perform, my choice was fight or flight. I knew running from this challenge would be humiliating, I’d become an outcast. But I didn’t want to be forced into some ridiculous pantomime and show myself to be something I wasn’t.

I dropped my single sheet of A4 and ran out of the auditorium. I waded through muddy trenches towards the huge surrounding wall. My teacher was shouting after me and my classmates stood motionless behind him, gawping in disbelief.

In no time I’d reached the wall and easily enough I leapt up onto its uneven surface despite its height. Before me lay pink and blue brick houses lining the streets, sinking towards the harbor.

With huge strides I was able to glide my way across rooftops making my way down the undulating slopes towards the sea.