letters from barabbas

What a strange time to be alive. In ten days it is graduation. My teachers smile sympathetically when they recognize how stressed, how paralyzed I've become.

But I've gotten into a good grad program. I've been dreaming furtively about my courseload, about the winter. I am here in Auburn, Alabama...physically. Home that I love. Spring is here. Azaleas have already gone. But I lay in the hammock and look up at the moon, and forget that I'm not already in Malawi. The moon is the same everywhere. But then I remember I'm still here. Writing a thesis. Over stuff I don't even care about anymore. Spending time with friends I may never see again. Wrestling with decisions that will determine the rest of my life.

Waiting for my bloody graduation. Parturition.
And New England. Trypanosomes. Africa.