Misinterpretations
I went to visit Denton in the fall of 2004. It had been three months since I moved back to Houston; I was anticipating my reaction to visiting the town I thought I would miss.
Of course, things were still the same; same crowds at the bars, same workers at Kharma Cafe, nothing different.
Because I was visiting during the school week, I took the opportunity to visit my Fibers professor. The walk on campus was so nostalgic; had it been that long since I was attending there? Texas is vast land, it is surprising that the climate change is as drastic from one border to the other. I trekked the one mile to the building and walked down the familiar path. As I walked to her office, I passed the looms and the "peg" boards with the thread wound around x amount of times. I think Ami was busy, so I went into the classroom to see what projects were being worked on.
I walked in and I couldn't help but feel that it was kizmet. There, in front of my face, facing the wash basin, was David. He was absorbed into his work, avidly working on his pieces. He was washing one of his screens. I was filled with delight to see him, almost to the point that I could cry. I decided to sneak up behind him and I did a pretty good job. Considering the spray gun and its generator are loud, he did not hear me approach.
I stood right behind him for a few seconds and then poked him on both sides of his stomach. It was not my best action; he jolted and turned around. I think he was equally surprised to see me and he hugged me and exclaimed, "Veronica!" emphasizing the double r that should be used when saying my name. I noticed he was using one of my screens that I left for the class. As a part of our assignments, we built screens and left them for the next semester of students to use.
It had been so long since we had seen each other and as I looked into his eyes, my mind erased all the emotions and pent up words I had been wanting to say to him.
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