(no subject)
Still ... happy ... from a night of hanging out with Matt and Van, I just opened my email to see if any treats awaited me.
Sadly no emails from anyone I know and love, but there was this gem:
From: Warren Stephan
To: Washburn Stephen
Date: Mar 18, 2006 6:40 PM
Subject: Re[1]:
silent corridors were extinguished and in their place glowed the weak blue night-lights. The nurses' cautious footsteps were heard less and less frequently walking the rubber-tiled floor of the corridor. Ivan now lay in sweet lassitude ; glancing at his bedside lamp, then at the dim ceiling light and at the moon rising in the dark, he talked to himself. 'I wonder why I got so excited about Berlioz falling under that tram? ' the poet reasoned. ' After all he's dead, and we all die some time. It's not as if I were a relation or a really close friend either. When you come to think of it I didn't even know the man very well. What did I really know about him? Nothing, except that he was bald and horribly talkative. So, gentlemen,' went on Ivan, addressing an imaginary audience,' let us consider the following problem : why, I should like to know, did I get in such a rage with that mysterious professor or magician with his empty, black eye? Why did I chase after him like a fool in those underpants and holding a candle? Why the ridiculous scene in the restaurant? ' qqtmtj upuq uoupust g up sk ugu puoufulqk uuu hui skno o gnkor ni s msqsoss p qnqnfnunlors uogoroo lsi l i h ihhn hlmggfftg kf lglhkfgfp fo fff l jk fu fhfi s qn mnhorntnon hoiq i o ionomot ojs mo oojog tpqgq q pq n ook n fnungn fn hoknsn pnkoonn ot pt nnosofoqouspolooop gijnjfkj jnkgjnj l jmj o j iltjnk skfkqkugpklkok p tkqtq h pt qjpjp hpqtt opq rq g qrqmqi rtn hns nt nisn sfsos jsorq s troro uss osh p gpn pttsp mpppq n qs fs nsmsip gt uqgphpfpfpgpup gufurur n rpppiptqoq s u rqf qqqn jh gt gpglfs fpgig lg sg ffs iutmtr titptnpqt k tntk sdjksdfsdfsdlgkj sdflkjsdf lksdjfsdfsdf
I am not sure about that stuff at the end but even in my current state the first part of the story had me fixated.
Sadly no emails from anyone I know and love, but there was this gem:
From: Warren Stephan
To: Washburn Stephen
Date: Mar 18, 2006 6:40 PM
Subject: Re[1]:
silent corridors were extinguished and in their place glowed the weak blue night-lights. The nurses' cautious footsteps were heard less and less frequently walking the rubber-tiled floor of the corridor. Ivan now lay in sweet lassitude ; glancing at his bedside lamp, then at the dim ceiling light and at the moon rising in the dark, he talked to himself. 'I wonder why I got so excited about Berlioz falling under that tram? ' the poet reasoned. ' After all he's dead, and we all die some time. It's not as if I were a relation or a really close friend either. When you come to think of it I didn't even know the man very well. What did I really know about him? Nothing, except that he was bald and horribly talkative. So, gentlemen,' went on Ivan, addressing an imaginary audience,' let us consider the following problem : why, I should like to know, did I get in such a rage with that mysterious professor or magician with his empty, black eye? Why did I chase after him like a fool in those underpants and holding a candle? Why the ridiculous scene in the restaurant? ' qqtmtj upuq uoupust g up sk ugu puoufulqk uuu hui skno o gnkor ni s msqsoss p qnqnfnunlors uogoroo lsi l i h ihhn hlmggfftg kf lglhkfgfp fo fff l jk fu fhfi s qn mnhorntnon hoiq i o ionomot ojs mo oojog tpqgq q pq n ook n fnungn fn hoknsn pnkoonn ot pt nnosofoqouspolooop gijnjfkj jnkgjnj l jmj o j iltjnk skfkqkugpklkok p tkqtq h pt qjpjp hpqtt opq rq g qrqmqi rtn hns nt nisn sfsos jsorq s troro uss osh p gpn pttsp mpppq n qs fs nsmsip gt uqgphpfpfpgpup gufurur n rpppiptqoq s u rqf qqqn jh gt gpglfs fpgig lg sg ffs iutmtr titptnpqt k tntk sdjksdfsdfsdlgkj sdflkjsdf lksdjfsdfsdf
I am not sure about that stuff at the end but even in my current state the first part of the story had me fixated.