Sunday, Jun. 12, 2005 @ 5:22 pm
Halfmoon Bay Trip#2 of '05
Under spotlights again, sweating on stage. The only flute in the band. I did it, I had to, and it was wonderful to hear the melody float above the brass and low woodwinds... only one person in the hall was there to hear me. Money, money, money, silver coins and lightweight notes, music in my pocket but not in his; that's ok, Tim, it's going to be ok.
We drove through the suburbs that night, past his absentee father's apartment. We idled, looking up at the rows of concrete balconies, and wondered if he was home and if he was at all different than before.
I smiled all the next day at work, so proud of the night before. I'm proud of my job too. If you live here, you rely on me for what comes from your taps. Each day I test the beaches for coliforms... "It's not much of a job" (Mom... when will you trust my decisions?)
Another weekend at the cabin:
�
