The Day I Missed a Dream Call While Drawing Escalators

Sitting across from my boss, a giant shopping mall floor plan scrawled with red pen between us, I slouched back in my seat. He hovered over the plan, examining an area where the escalator had been demolished, caught in a tirade of over-analysis.

He demanded that I spend the rest of the day on a drawing that the builder had already said he didn’t need. I tried to argue the case, but it was lost in translation, and there was no point in challenging his authority, especially as he was wearing blue, pointy, leather shoes.

Stepping out of the room, I noticed a missed call on my phone. I rushed down the stairs and paced around the courtyard as I dialled the number back; an agent had called with a commercial offer. Holding onto false hope, she said the opportunity had gone to someone else. I hung up, and a bitterly cold wind swept across my face.

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Having fallen out of love with the architecture industry long ago, a need for security while raising my son had forced me to take the only job offer from 200 applications. I’d been taking steps toward my acting dream, which some had called impossible in a foreign land, but when opportunity knocked, I’d been too busy measuring escalator treads. I realised I needed to be available.

Still, in broken German, I begged my boss to extend my contract. I’d been on the dance floor before, trying to sell something my heart wasn’t in, which never ended well. He refused. If my son saw me take a swing at my dreams and fail, that was still better than him not seeing me swing at all.