Perhaps because my ears were blocked, and perhaps because I was in a general haze from the fever, campus seemed incredibly quiet this morning. The sky was pewter gray, air was cold. Students were walking all around me, but no one made a single noise. Not even their feet. It was as if a giant fleece blanket had fallen over the university. I dropped off my assignment and came back to the Shoebox, read The Museum of Innocence and "The Overcoat," and pretended to sleep away my illness.
Florida State really, really wants Guion! Best news of the month. Tallahassee sounds like a place we could grow accustomed to over two years.
"Outside the trees dragged their leaves like nets through the depths of the air; the sound of water was in the room and through the waves came the voices of birds singing. Every power poured its treasures on his head, and his hand lay there on the back of the sofa, as he had seen his hand lie when he was bathing, floating, on the top of the waves, while far away on shore he heard dogs barking and barking far away. Fear no more, says the heart in the body; fear no more." -- Mrs. Dalloway*
Once I get married, I am going to start blogging differently. (As a choice, not as an involuntary consequence.)
It is raining now and the cars on the street sound like waves against rock.
*Oh! Frightening coincidence I just happened to discover. Apparently, Fate has deemed that I will be drawn to this exact passage at this exact time of year. See here.