baggage's Diaryland Diary

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Quiet like a bomb

The day passed quietly enough. I wrote some long-overdue emails to distant friends and spoke with a few of the colleagues I met during my one week shangri-la from work. On Tuesday, I'm due to make a sort-of-presentation about my week away; share my newly discovered wisdom with the rest of the class.
But, the experience isn't easily condensed. How do I explain the magical connection I had with the four folks I shared drinks with after the rest of my group returned to their hotel rooms? How do I describe the easy flow of conversation, the lack of pretense, the wonderful weather?
And the sound of the piano in the great hall? It's strings echoing off of the exposed beams and windows-the moon just casting enough light on the keys to make them visible? The odd untied knot of the G7th when it should have been the C major? How do you explain the feeling of leaving things unresolved?

8:22 p.m. - 2005-11-09

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