I had thought to see Angela today, but oh well. Just another goodbye more casual than the occasion would require, if I consciously thought about it.
I have been reading "Ender's Game" in preparation for BT. I figure a little perspective on pain may be useful; pain and orders and militant manners. Today I have put all the supplies in my bag, and a small pile it makes.
These past days feel of unreality, though they have been good as well. I want to remember long sitting in the shadow of the obelisk in the center of Asheville, by the pool, talking to Isaac Wingfield and Angela of politics; or discussing the more complicated reality of heaven with Kendon, drinking coffee. (My guy friends and brothers seems to be cultivating their hair to great affect; more of the similar differences.) Plus ca change, plus la meme chose.