No title today

In a small room in the basement of the ancient languages department, Phillip toiled away at translating an ancient set of manuscripts. He was one of a few leading experts in Old Danubian, and the university was kind enough to provide him with ample funding to work on translating documents. For Phillip, this was all well and good, since it meant that he didn’t have to supplement his income by taking on additional teaching positions. His one class on Old Danubian was enough for him to handle; really, the university had twisted his arm quite a bit in order to get him teaching.
 What Phillip enjoyed most about translating was the challenge of synthesizing the two languages. In one language you have a word that is completely alien; foreign, and in another you need to find the right phrase or word that matches the sentiment, so translating is a bit like solving a puzzle—at least that’s how he saw it. Nothing will ever be one-to-one but it was important for Phillip to try and match the original author’s intention. When that failed, well, what a wonderful invention footnotes were, thought Phillip. He also placed great emphasis on understanding the time and place from which he was translating. A document from the 2nd century written by a scribe is going to have a much different mindset than his modern one. Is it even possible for him to put himself in a bronze age mindset? It’s for this reason that Phillip believed his translation works were a step above his peers; because he attempted to put himself in the mindset of the author, while everyone else did not.
 The most immediate document Phillip was currently working on translating was a record of a fort’s construction and maintenance. Not exciting but he was sure the dorks in the history department would appreciate the translation. What did strike him has interesting were the things that the author did decide to record. Today, perhaps, it wouldn’t be recorded how many cows had grazed on the land surrounding a fort’s construction site, but the ancient Danubians did. Why, he wondered. Well, any answer he thought of would just end up being conjecture. He’ll let the reader imagine the significance of this, if they even notice it.
 One of his teaching assistants, Christina-Alex, knocked on his door. She had finished marking a set of assignments and came to hand them in.
 “Thank you, Christina-Alex,” he said.
 “Please, just call me Alex, Professor,” she replied.
 “I’d prefer to keep things professional while on campus, if you don’t mind.” The last thing Phillip needed were his TAs getting overly familiar with him. He preferred the dingy isolation in the basement than the company of others.
 “What are you working on, sir?”
 “Ah, that would be the records of a fort from the early 2nd age. Not quite so interesting but translating this kind of stuff is necessary every now and then. I’d imagine it might be more interesting to Charlie. Nonetheless, I do appreciate turning in those marked assignments so promptly. If you do happen to see him, kindly remind him to have them marked and returned to me sooner rather than later.”
 She gave a playful salute before leaving the room.
 Two days later he had a visit from the other TA, Charlie, and by now Phillip was translating a new document.
 “Yoo, Professor, here are those assignments you asked me to mark.”
 “Thank you, Charlie.”
 “What are you working on? Alex said something about castle records.”
 “Not quite, that was from a few days ago. I’m now working on a poem. I don’t always choose what I get to translate,” he said with an indifferent shrug.
 “You ever think of translating something and publishing it?”
 “No, I can’t say that I have. I doesn’t really interest me. Just a few papers here and there that the university can use to flaunt their prestige and to ensure that I continue to receive funding. That’s about the extent of my publishing career.”
 “Okay, but I’m sure you must have read some pretty interesting stuff. I bet you could collate it all into a cool story. Use that stuff as the basis for a story and say you were translating a lost language—not quite but similar to what Tolkien did.”
 “I appreciate the ideas, Charlie. Perhaps you are more suited for that task than me. I’ll keep it in mind. Now, keep up your studies and no more dilly-dallying.” With that he shooed him out of the room. It was an interesting idea but Phillip already spent his life essentially copying, to do the same exercise for a book felt wrong to him. He thought it better to stay in his lane.