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When I woke up this morning Pachelbel was playing in my head. That's a first, in fact. startling ...

In a minute I'm going to put it on my computer.

It is her favourite piece of classical music. "I never tire of it." She played the piano version of it many times. Of course that was years ago. An eternity, now.

That's the single window in her tiny dorm room you're looking at. On the third floor; the first floor is below grade so we are talking a very short building too.

And of course it has to be Sunday morning right now.

18 weeks ago, what we shared F2F for four nights on the other side of that window [and what we didn't share in the next 36 hours] is pretty vivid, too, let me tell you.

And some of it doesn't sound much like Pachelbel, either.

And by now I know pretty well what I think of her roommates, too. In her Saturday post she wrote "I honestly think my roommates wouldn't give a damn if I died tomorrow."

Well, none of them ever read that. They didn't need to.

I'm processing my feeling about some of this and I don't want to post about it now.

Now I want my string quartet. Pachelbel's world was much simpler and sweeter, I hope.


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Aug. 17th, 2008 12:43 pm (UTC)
I don't know if I could have revisited all that if I were in your shoes. *hugs*
Aug. 17th, 2008 04:52 pm (UTC)
One of the curious things is that I never felt really alone.
So that helped. A lot. So did my camera.

The window has become a place of deliverance and joy. And of cherished memories.

*hugs right back*
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )


kiota too late for the stars
Moonfire Marion Bridge / Brad

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