Prof. Norman stood in the middle of his office, all his personal possessions had been packed and he was good to go.
He peered through the window, the only view the brick wall of the building opposite. Forty-two years at the university, man and boy, ended today.
By most standards it had been a good career. He was a ‘name’ in his field: many of his books were required reading for students. He wrote often for serious newspapers and magazines.
But shyness is a dreadful curse.
He often hid in his office, the door locked; knocks from students and colleagues left unanswered. The ringing telephone terrorised him. When forced to attend a meeting, he prepared a written script of what he was going to say.
He learned to deceive. To function at all he had to take on a persona ‘Gerald Norman starring as the university lecturer.’ He had to be somebody not himself. He’d heard many actors – and who knew? – stand-up comedians were also shy and unable to function in real life.
Prof. Norman never had a woman. Photos of him in his student days show a fresh-faced lad with unruly curly hair and sparkling eyes. Many girls, and a few boys, fancied him but were scared off by what they misread as aloofness.
He checked his watch. Colleagues were waiting at the Hairy Hamster for farewell drinks, speeches and gift-giving.
Prof. Norman left the office, crossed the road, and took the 82 bus back to his silent home.
Words: Richard Rooney
Illustration: A.I.
Flash Fiction 250
Flash Fiction 250 