A pirate sits in his car, texting with his eye patch up, while the news blares from his radio.
A silver and a pink balloon float above a fencepost at a house around the corner.
A car does a U-turn outside the house, crunches against the curb and comes to a complete stop. It seems perplexed.
My dress is ready. I’m on my way to the dressmaker now. I’d been walking past the Red Cross shop a few days ago and felt compelled to go in. There it was. A grey wool dress with a touch of black satin at the neckline and cuffs. Simple. Elegant. Beautiful.
I tried it on anyway.
Max Mara, the girl with the German accent told me.
It needed a little re-stitching.
It’s ready now. I try it on.
I sit in the downstairs section of the library. I’d ignored the signs saying staff and students only. I am neither a staff member nor a student of this particular institution but I figure that if I look confident no one will notice me.
I find a table in the group learning section. I don’t have a group. I sit at the table alone, surrounded by groups of students, with my laptop open, marking.
Conversations swirl around me. Ideas, concepts, understandings, clarifications, possibilities. Multiple languages. Multiple disciplines. Maths. Graphic design. Nutrition. Engineering. A glass wall covered in formula. Portfolios scattered across tables. Laughter. Swearing. Questions. Comprehension. Propositions.
Intellectual and social and professional engagement.
I wonder about the spaces we create for online students to engage in these rigorous conversations.
Tim says: I’m going to the city with my camera.
I let other thoughts go. They are puzzles for another time.
Now is the time for wandering.