click here to return to "SHORT STORIES"

Lead dragged across one sticky note after another, then another, until Parson's desk was, in fact, more note than desk. Parson, an employee at Fankman-Bried's, felt an intense pressure bearing down onto him. While it was his boss, not him, on the chopping block, Parson was well aware his job security had suddenly plummeted, and he was not sure if he would even receive his next paycheck. These worries compounded in Parson's head, rendering him unable to work properly and, instead, mindlessly doodle over the sea of sticky notes before him. At first, Parson simply sketched middle school styled "S"s along with skateboards and skulls, but his pencil soon found itself creating a creature: an octopus, and one that was engaged in a dance routine. Parson put his pencil down and stared at what he had doodled. A few moments passed, and he reached into his desk to brandish a green Crayola crayon which he then applied to the creature, then providing him with a speech bubble that yelled aloud, "Hello, I am Dr. Octopus, the dancing professor of your dreams." Parson stared, then wondered to himself: do I dream, too?