An Ode to Half-Baked Harvest
I’m about to introduce you to my best friend.
I’m about to introduce you to my best friend.
We are ranchers, I told myself. We are tough in the face of life’s harshness.
The Aldi Quarter is always in motion.
“I guess you might still be sleeping and that’s OK, we can talk soon.”
I always find it such a nasty shock when friends of my heart become friends of the road and quickly recede in my rearview mirror.
The whole thing was a real exercise in accelerated bildungsroman.
I can’t very well store it in my office as usual—five weeks into the semester, I have yet to receive a key.
“I find solace in letting things go, letting things be silly and not perfect. “
I’m still afraid I’m boarding the wrong train.
It didn’t make me any less of a student or a person.