(no subject)

Brigitte walked in and said an airplane had crashed into New York, but that the news was still too fresh to say much. Hana left the class mid-way through to find out. I think it bothers her even more than the rest of us. But it is so damn strange, that feeling that something terrible might be happening while I'm sitting by the window on the third floor of Calhoun, watching the grey sky and speaking Czech.

mushrooms are nifty