after class
by imdeb
Walking barefoot across T-hall lawn, I try to remember the last time I felt alone. Right now seemed pretty close. My bare feet crunched satisfying over brown fallen leaves. The leaves were warm in the sun compared to the semi-frozen ground. Two people, but not together, were sitting on the lawn, that was it. The T-hall bell rang for 10:30am and I suddenly became aware of the rest of campus, alive but half asleep, strolling in light jackets to their next class along cement walkways. Was there some sort of rule that you couldn’t be on the grass unless it was 80degrees plus and sunny? A fat squirrel finishing off a granola bar seemed surprised to see me on his green turf, someone walking off the path way? In November? …what a shock. Delivery trucks and UNH busses hummed noisily on the busy road, stopping at every crosswalk to let girls in sweatpants and boys on longboards cross. There are always so many people around. Even from my room I can hear the buzz from the hand dryer, lively hallway conversations, the slamming of doors. The last time I felt alone I can’t even remember. Lonely, yes, that was just last night, or maybe right now. When was the last time I saw something beautiful? The last time I had my breath taken away? The last time I felt small? In a store, with an unwelcomed kiss, and trying to find a table in the dining hall.
Blonde hair whisps in front of my face, a gentle New Hampshire breeze. I’m going to dye it brown over Thanksgiving break. A bleach blonde passes me and the guy walking ahead of me turns to look at her from behind. Maybe I won’t dye my hair after all.
