beyond eurydice

..because I am a bum and can't write on topic.

So, no mysterious roommate disappearing story, at least not until I can get home and find time to write. And also feel inspired, I think. I can tell the story all right when it's verbal, although it gets shorter with every telling. But writing it down? Not nearly as interesting.

So here, just for Charlene, is an alternate snippet of my life, written down while slightly tipsy at an indie rock concert in Fremont. It even has footnotes!

( Cafe Metropolitan, was the name of the bar. )