In the Thick of Things (I Know How to Sail . . .)

Beautiful but Unlikely

green monster

Ross and I had arranged to meet in the office on Saturday; he had been away for over a week and would be flying back that morning. Time to catch up. Somebody was usually in on weekends, generally Paul, and when I got there both he and Ross were already there, Paul in the middle of some heated conversation on the phone, Ross sitting on the edge of the copy table, listening to him, biting his thumb nail, occasionally putting in his two cents which Paul would immediately repeat, barking the words into the receiver.

I had lived a dual existence while he was gone, working hard both at the library and HRI and outwardly flourishing in his absence, but mooning away a good part of my evenings, staying up late watching TV in my room, reliving all my encounters with Ross from the beginning; running through his phone calls…

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