Fraternities, sororities, young people everywhere. I am young, but not there anymore. The wonder of college is lost when the world expands. I want certain things that I did not want then. The engineering student, my guide, her friend. We walked along the dark path down the mountain toward the campus. Talked about the school, engineering, literature nerds. I described Oates’ themes and they cringed. She writes it beautifully, I said. She writes what it is to be human. That is the gift of a good writer. Show how ugly people can be, but show that they are people. Show who we are. Dark campus, lights on, people sitting by windows. The first person I asked was lost, headed to the same place I was. She seemed shy. I asked three people we met along the way and she followed. We found the hall. They made room for us on the floor, and I happily sat. I do well on the ground, open all around, no walls. It is flat, even keel for all. Gave me room to stretch my legs when I would have had to bring them in close in a seat. I like having space. I have large shoulders and long legs and a spare tire and am not subtle nor spry. When she speaks, she smiles, composed and yet not perfect, just there. She spoke with affection of having met Samuel Beckett. Not a laugh from me, but some smiles, and mostly I don’t remember, I was too into the listening. It ended too quickly, she’s human. On the drive home there was a guy named Zack on the radio speaking about his gay parents and the pointlessness of legislation that tries to keep them apart. He spoke of love, family, and made good points. Tears welled in my eyes. Emotions get to me, loneliness, the potential in people to love one another. Pride and ego hold it all in check. I learned it from my father. I will be his biographer, I will pray to the sky. It is not in me to do otherwise.