Chapter 1 

Just one decent dinner with the Professor and his wife, that was all he wanted. He walked all the way across town, up the slope to the kind looking house that professor's live in. He was making a salad, she was making something in the wok. The conversation was low and not dramatic. There was no tension but the professor smiled more. Two professor and his wife lived in a wonderful cocoon. He had a wonderful, generous library upstairs filled with classics and commentary, pyschology and philosophy. There was a tattered hard-covered copy of Spengler's Decline of the West that he had lent out. The house was finely cluttered with paintings and odd knick knacks, comfortable chairs. They had small parties in the house with poets like Duncan reading or else watching movies.

The Professor was tall, dressed casually, very pale, a Scotsman while his wife was still young looking, attractive, with "hippy dresses," as she called them. They had married at the Unitarian Church and after everyone drank Tequila with salt on the hand and everyone left out in a daze in the beautiful afternoon.

David Eide
January 24, 2014