When an Oblivious Handsome Older Man Went Back in Time and Was Building Harlem - Chapter 1

“…Therefore the author’s feelings are reflected in this text.”

I can faintly hear such a voice. I lift my head and look ahead to see a blackboard and a man standing in front of it. The man standing in front of the blackboard looked familiar; I think he was my homeroom teacher in my second year of high school.

(Is this a classroom? What a remarkably realistic dream.)

When I looked down, I saw a notebook written in my own handwriting, and I was surprised by how realistic the dream was. For some reason, I was struck by a sense of duty to take notes, so I copied what was written on the blackboard. It’s been 20 years since I’ve done something like this, and I was astonished by the passage of time.

The chime rings, and the modern literature class ends. The date today is Monday, April 9th. My school has a system where we can leave right after the 6th period, so I’m curious about which period it is now. I pretended to organize my notes and textbooks as I observed the surroundings, and since everyone seemed to be carrying their belongings to leave, it must be the 6th period now.

I could go home, but I remembered that I was definitely part of the basketball club and spent almost every day immersed in club activities. Out of habit, I tried to take my phone out of my pants pocket. Back in my student days, flip phones were the norm, but for some reason, I was now holding a smartphone.

(Why are there smartphones in this era? They shouldn’t be out for another 10 years or so…)

The familiar chat app had a notification saying there were club activities today, and I informed them that I would be absent. In this abnormal situation, I can’t imagine participating in club activities with a straight face. Plus, I don’t want to do those intense movements in my dreams. It’s impossible to run around at full speed for that old man.

I thought I might get a little lost from the classroom to the entrance, but with a sharp pain that shot through me, my memories came rushing back, and I didn’t get lost. I left the school and headed to the station. Even though it had been 20 years since I last walked this path, I was surprisingly reminded of things along the way, and the nostalgia made me a bit excited. I arrived at the station, got on the train, and headed to the station three stops away, which

When I checked the date on my phone, it was exactly 20 years ago, in 2005. Since my birthday hasn’t come yet, I am a 16-year-old in my second year of high school. Before having this dream, it was winter, so feeling the spring weather made my brain go haywire. Plus, maybe because of my youth, my body doesn’t hurt anywhere. My eyes don’t get tired, and I don’t have trouble reading small texts.

(Youth is amazing…)

I get off the train and follow the familiar path I used to take to get home. Once I arrive home, I summarize everything that has happened so far in my phone’s notes to calm myself down.

* 37 years old

* Police officer

* No wife or children

* I am living a life where I can enjoy sake and food.

When I write it out again, I think, “Wow, I’m living a pretty dull life,” but I guess this is what being a 37-year-old single man is like. It makes me a bit sad.

“…If I sleep, this strange dream will probably end too.”

Thinking that, I get into bed and fall asleep.

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The next morning.

I would meet the gaze of the ceiling of the room I was so familiar with until a few years ago, and I would feel disheartened that I hadn’t woken up from this dream.