interior, like a large hall. i don't think the name of the school was so important as it was that it is a "christian college."
i'm not a student, almost literally just passing through, or trying to, but getting bullied, threatened, bumped into because they won't deviate from course and almost seek out collision, confrontation.
there's some event - i don't know what - that's gone wrong and college officials are huddling, murmuring damage control and warming up the blame game.
it's because of the officer-type who approaches me, because an older chinese woman thinks i might be the one who did something - i don't know what - that the bullying stops. when the officer explains the situation, the bully "behaves" but after the explanation, and the older chinese women seeing and stating i'm not the one, i tell the officer about the bullying and as i'm doing this the bully slinks away.
the officer guides me to the door i've been trying to get to and suggests letting it go and moving on.
I was hanging my Betty Blue print in my room in the house on Marin in Albany and dropped the nail I was about to hammer into the wall.
I heard it land - ping! - and roll on the hardwood floor. I looked everywhere for it but could not locate it, weird enough in itself.
I stopped the search and took a shower and got in my truck and drove across the bridge to Kathryn's in The City.
When I came home the next morning, I was reminded of the fallen nail when I walked into my room and saw it balanced on its tip - straight up and down - on the floor. On, not in, which would've been interesting, too.
He would have turned 50 today at our mother's home near Austin, Texas.
I'd've called later in the afternoon as I did most Sundays to wish him a happy birthday. He'd've said wait a minute and turned down the television and we'd've talked about the baseball playoffs and he'd've said your Sox are looking good. He was an Angels fan and would've said that Mike Trout deserves the MVP. We'd've talked about the day's football games, particularly the Cowboys/Broncos.
He'd've had a few beers. I'd probably be outside Dublin's in the middle of having a couple myself. He'd've asked where I was, I'd've told him, he'd've expressed his envy. He'd say that he missed California and that he just wanted to see the mountains one more time, something he often said. I'd've told him I'd just seen his grandchildren and that I'd email pictures to mom for him to see whenever I finally
download them from my phone, but he'd've already seen the pictures she
I'd've asked how he was feeling and he'd've said okay even though he was in pain.
We'd've talked some more about whatever and said I love you to each other and hung up.
As it is, though, I'll head over to Dublin's and have a few with him in mind.
i can tell when you're nearby and watching, you might as well blow me a kiss, or kaylee away into girlish hopscotching and shoot me that stare i so miss. for isn't it you over my shoulder? is that not your perfume kissing my nose? i can feel you, flower, blooming bolder, by any other name my rose.
i find him, small and "crying" and lost. i know somehow he's been abused. i pick him up (and fall in love).an instant and powerful connection. at home he plays with zen. the cub is so small he must be very young.
yet i realize the reality of how he will grow and what he is destined to become and know that i must find some suitable home. mike (uncle) is able to do that online and he shows me the address.
beyond adorable, and my nurturing/protective instincts kicking in strong.