While driving up to Tucson tonight I saw nine falling stars. I was feeling excited about this adventure, and was thinking back to a particular moment in time, a long time ago.
We all have moments in time we remember for no particular reason. Perhaps you felt a certain way, or the light was a certain way,. They are vignettes.
Here's the one that caught my fancy.
I was in art school in Boston, I was probably 20 years old. I went at an all-night party where I didn't know anyone. I spent the night talking to a boy in a Max wolf suit, you know, from "Where the Wild things Are". It was a lovely spring night, so we spent it sitting outside.
"Max", for I think that was actually his name, was telling me fairy tales.
But that's not the moment I want to write about.
Dawn was coming and I needed to go home, so I found the "punk rock" friend I came with. It was the eighties after all.
We walked on the train tracks the whole way back to Boston. The sun was rising behind the tall buildings in the distance, and everything was glowing orange and red. The city looked beautiful. I believed whole-heartedly at that moment that anything is possible.
On that note, I say goodnight.
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