At length the winter set in in good earnest, just as I had finished plastering, and the wind began to howl around the house as if it had not had permission to do so till then.
I’m cycling back to Pacifico one winter night, along that cobbled stretch beside the Quad, and the lamps, were they white or orange? One night after class at Olson? the names are a blur. I tell Youngju that I’m headed for a poetry slam at ___, that central building at the Quad, even that I’ve forgotten. We both head down after class. Straight down and you’ll hit the egghead statues at the theatre. Where we had our first class in Intro to Acting. Mai and I we practiced in a room on the second floor. And then the path beside the arboretum. Ducklings waddling after a mother duck. Jogging with Allen and tk one morning, alone one night. The path hits the road – take either the pedestrian crossing or stick with the road, then under the railway, the train would shriek if it went past and I never saw the point. At the underpass, the road would slope downwards, and I would see how long I could whizz cheerfully down without my arms on the handlebars. I would race Jin Kyu down and he would beat me on the way up – he’s lighter than I am. Then the torturous corkscrew back up. Nothing more of note, the research building, the freemasons, then another path back to Pacifico. Back to my room with orange lights. I never appreciated the whiteness of lighting until I needed a reading lamp because the light in your room is too orange. Maybe some guys will be talking beside the fridge, and I never have work to do, so I’ll join in, why not.