168/365 Jay
At the twentieth, he claimed he didn’t remember me. Seven years, same bus, same homeroom. At the twenty-fifth, I didn’t seek him out, not looking to be not remembered. But leaving at the end of the night, he calls out, “Goodnight, Indigo…” What the…?
posted by Indigo Bunting at 6:08 AM
5 Comments:
It's sure quiet in Blogland. Maybe it's the heat.
I think it is. It's getting quieter and quieter, eh?
Was that a Canadian "eh" that I heard? I'll have to tell mm that you're learning our language! :-)
Oooooo...a subconscious eh, bubbles forth. Gotta admit, Canada seems utterly great to me. When Tim and I went to NS a few years back, something cool happened in the airport (can't remember what now), then, when we pulled the car out onto the highway, there was a skateboarder out there--whereupon Tim got almost misty and said, "I love this country."
That's a funny story! And well written! Strange things happen when high school classes reunite at those things...
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