This content originally appeared on Ethan Marcotte’s website and was authored by Ethan Marcotte
Today, I had coffee with a few old friends. I saw Frank, Rob, and Josh. Also, I finally—finally! finally!—met Chappell. We all sat together and talked about video games, we talked about work, we talked about helicopters, we talked about our weekend plans. We ate a couple donuts. It was really great.
We spent an hour together, laughing hysterically. Then we parted ways, stepping out into the sun.
Today, I walked along the river, by an office building my friends used to work in. The building’s since been gutted, and turned into luxury condominiums. The waterfront had been landscaped and sculpted into something beautiful I didn’t recognize. Frank pointed out new stores that’d sprung up, and I marveled at how that whole neighborhood had been underwater a few short years ago. I cooed at a few adorable dogs that were sunning themselves on the hot pavement.
Today, I sat under a skylight in a quiet café, and talked for hours with Frank. The café was above a movie theater, and for an hour or so we were the only customers in there. We drank coffee, then ordered some fries. We chatted about movies, about design projects. We talked about authors who’d gotten famous, and why that would sometimes make us a little sad.
After a bit, Graham joined us. He showed us some books he’d bought, and told us about books he’s working on. We talked about friends we hadn’t seen in some time, then we talked about friends we were going to see soon. After a bit, he left; shortly after that, we left, too.
Today, I went to a pencil store. I’d never been in a pencil store before, and it was as tiny, as pristine, as you’d expect. I bought a new pencil, an eraser, a new notebook—spiral-bound from the top, thank you—and a sharpener, as well as a few gifts.
We paid and left, our purchases taped into little yellow envelopes, which were then bound with string. I said something about how comforting it is, with everything going on, to know there’s a little shop filled with pencils—filled with small, perfect, exquisitely-made things. Frank nodded. We walked on.
Today, I saw a very cute puppy on the subway. It was being held, securely, gently, in its owner’s hand. After a few stops, the seats next to me opened up, and the owner sat down. The puppy looked back at me, shivering a little, and licked its nose. Then it laid down.
Today, I’m going home.
This content originally appeared on Ethan Marcotte’s website and was authored by Ethan Marcotte
Ethan Marcotte | Sciencx (2018-05-25T04:00:00+00:00) Bundt.. Retrieved from https://www.scien.cx/2018/05/25/bundt/
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