Festival

Fortuitously the three glasses of port I drank last night didn't result in a hangover, so at around nine thirty in the morning I make myself comfortable on a pale couch in Aumann and open up my laptop to do some work. The port was from a good friend who is also here. I messaged him earlier in the week asking for a time to hang out and catch up, and that time was resolved to late in the evening the previous day. He had made a brief comment on the strangeness of the time, but it was nostalgic for me — it brought me back to last November, the writing done and most everyone asleep, playing video games together in the quiet dark. Being back here is so genuinely lovely. He has a new room, and we hugged tightly for a long time at the threshold before he let me in. Inside was this typical Lighthaven mixture of spartan and indulgent, new engineered wood and crooked ceilings, and we sat next to each other and proceeded to talk for the rest of the night. We talked about work and ambitions and…