Date: 4/8/2017
By Cj
I was sitting at a table having dinner with Lisa and her parents and some other friends; I looked down at my plate and realized I was picking at the bones of a dead chicken's breast. I had eaten half of it, and the people with me tried to console me when I realized what I had done, but I silently stood, leaving everything and my journal behind, and carried the body away with me. I entered a hanging, windowed room extended below from a balcony, and then a room extended from that, and then another from that. It was especially cozy, with far too many boxy hotel-esque chairs and sofas and stools filling the space of the small, intimate room. I climbed a large oak and sat on it's thick, high, lowest branch. (Around here the bird disappeared from my mind.) The room was then occupied by POC - and the room from another balcony seen through glass. It was a safe environment, and I knew many of the people but not all. I overheard Theo ask Deanna what she percieved his gender to be; she said she prefered not to answer those questions. I had climbed up higher and was somewhat stuck; Theo reached up (somehow) and spotted / helped me as I climbed down. He heard about my accident with the bird and led me to his room (though I led / guessed / walked in front) and offered me the tiniest little waffle cone as a gesture of comfort. I joined an all-male Saturday afternoon recreational basketball team/group. Most people were black, but there were a few white boys. It was difficult for me to understand the team divisions until I saw some people wore green bracelets and some wore red. The ball was incredibly flat, but I was the only one who couldn't dribble with it. I tried hitting the ball out of someone's hand, but he explained that he was allowed to carry it because it counted as "legal travelling" because of some rule. Christi joined us.