Writing, writing. . .endlessly
Well, I've written two papers since 10am, so there's not much for non-academic stuff that came out of my pen today.
On top of it all, my laptop died again. Toshiba voicemail got the brunt of that.
This little piece was crumpled up in my pocket, not sure what day it's from.
GOOD TIMES
She was lost in far away thoughts, her gaze fixed as she waited for the train. The man sitting beside her wondered what had stolen her attention away.
The trumpet in the background reminded her of a smokey evening shared over coffee and laughter. Good times.
She wondered where they all went, those moments of comfort and ease. They were young then, the whole world and time stretched out in front of them. She was penning the great American novel, and he would be the greatest maestro history had ever known.
The moment lay witness to the sheer exhilaration of hope and vitality. They lived and loved every minute, savoring the journey.
Posted by Amanda at November 15, 2002 09:51 PM
