Flop House
An eight-hour bus ride from Winchester, VA to Knoxville, TN is a frustrating one. First of all, it was difficult to package my computer, a desktop model, in such a way that it would conform to the strict regulations governing what will or will not be accepted into the belly of the bus. Then, there was the ogre, stretched out on top of me. Encumbering luggage, the delirium of half-sleep – it will all lead to a strange state of mind upon arrival, which took place at Dawn.
It occurred to me that I had never seen the Greyhound bus station, or its surrounding, dilapidated, environment, in daylight. I walked away from the place in a trance, completely forgetting that my favorite pair of sandals, and my set of fancy headphones were still on the bus! Luckily, I remembered and managed to call the bus station in time for an attendant to retrieve my things while the bus was still refueling. I was relieved, and now I love my sandals a little more, having thought that I’d lost them.
There is no dorm room for me, yet. I woke for my first day of classes today at the flop house. The flop house is an loose, impromptu kind of commune, I suppose. Last night a romantic pair of gypsies came passing through, and also sought to flop at the house. They played a concert for us last night: she on her flute, and he on guitar.
That cat, Dharma, is a white cat with continents of orange on her coat. She has kittens this week. I helped her build a nest for the babies today. I gathered pillows in a way that would be able to walk on while carrying babies, and I arranged the blankets to make it soft for the wormy little ones. I think my efforts were appreciated, because when they were finished the little family immediately commenced with purring, milk, and naptime.
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