I was walking up from the library to the theatre, thinking about writing as I had just been reading about writing. I was going over in my head of another day where I as walking along this route. Bushes and bikes scattered in some meaningful rythm. This time its night and some of the bikes I only see out of the corner of my eye and they scare me. Though Im not sure what my brain thinks they can be, its not like litter that moves in the wind so you think its an animal. Last time I walked up the way it was windy, bright. Someone was wailing on their horn-- the university has moved all the music students to an abandoned dormitory to practice. The windows face the walkway which is too perfect, like a gateway lined up with a giant mouth yelling just persistantly enough for someone, a non-music student, to yell SHUT UP to one of the offensive windows. And tonight I am walking up thinking about this horn going and I hear it again, another saxophone. And its just right, swinging into everything, my steps are bringing me to it and the bushes and the bikes are spaced out for each of these notes. Its going WAH WAH WAH WOOOOW and I look up, halfway thinking to yell shut up but if I did I woudnt have meant it. A window was open, it was someone I knew. I yelled his name and felt like Romeo romancing. I think of other times with other saxophonists and am not sure how I feel about the cycleness of all things. If I'd rather it just not keep going around. Or maybe these are the good times.