Sunrise, blue sky, dusk.
I spent a year following my acquisition of a Photography degree taking English classes. Creative Writing, specifically. During what became my last semester at UH I took a Folklore class. About halfway through the semester I looked across the room and noticed someone that I hadn’t noticed before. I thought to myself, “I should talk to that person.” I didn’t know why. But I’ve met some very interesting people by subconsciously singling them out from a crowd, so I went with it.
She turned out to be a memorable person. Friendly, talkative, and occasionally a bit coarse. “Peppery” was about the best word I could devise to describe her personality. It mostly seemed defensive. What she mentioned about her circle of friends made it seem that some of her more free-thinking notions were a bit discouraged.
She introduced me to swimming as exercise, and we usually went to the huge pool at the UH Wellness Center twice a week. We ate pizza under a tree once. She gave me a ride somewhere and when she started the car the radio was playing some classical music. She quickly turned it off and said “Don’t judge me!” She said that about a number of things that I never had the chance to react to.
Our folklore professor, Ms. Winniford, had difficulty getting around and Anna volunteered to give the woman a ride home most days after class. The ride back to UH was a brief chance to talk. Anna even bought a purse for Ms. Winniford at the end of the semester, on account of the instructor’s old purse having a broken strap.
When I first became very ill last Summer, prior to being officially diagnosed, Anna came over a couple of times just to cook or help me get somewhere. About the time I moved out of that apartment she went to Louisiana on an archeology trip. Following that, I only heard from her a couple of times. Once she was in New York, and very busy doing things. The last, she sounded very tired and distracted, and said that she would call me back some time. I’ve had a lot of stories end that way.