Memory from LSU days...

I remember a girl from my days in college. A roommate of a friend's, the only memory I retain is of one night when I visited their apartment on East Chimes Street, near the north gates of LSU on Highland Road. I'd gone to meet Debbie, and Heather was home.

I'm sitting on a sofa covered with texts and book bags. The lights are low; Debbie's in the back getting ready for dinner. The windows to the street are open, sounds of the campus and the nearby bars and restaurants drift in on the light breeze. A ceiling fan lazily circles overhead. The Cranberries are playing "Linger" and Heather begins to dance. Slowly, she turns, dancing to the music. She knows I'm watching as she twirls, sundress riding up, revealing her knee-high off-white socks. Her long blonde hair creates a shower of light as she ignores me, responding to the music. She's like a fairy, an elf, ethereal in her moves and innocence. She continues to dance until Debbie comes out from the back, ready to go out.

I remember this, and the days of hanging out at Claire's and playing drinking games. Giving back rubs to Melissa, a girl from a neighborhood back home. Getting drunk and watch Tre down a suitcase of Natural Light. Working up stock at the Super*Fresh, then hanging out at Louie's afterwards. Playing pinball at the Circle K and drinking beer with Red, a homeless alcoholic who basically lived there. Erin and her exotic Native American looks. She worked two weeks at Louie's while she followed the Dead. Nights at the Bengal, the Bayou, and other old bars. 80s retro at the Varsity where I danced for hours until I sweated out all the whiskey. Kathleen and her 20s' flopper-girl style haircut. Sheree who thought I was cool and Adriana, the cool violin student who amused herself with my attention. Seeing Hootie and the Blowfish, Sheryl Crow, the Sundays, and others at the Varsity with girls I dated at the time. Jude and his bullet-wound. Jamie and nights of 40s, boiled crawfish and toking.

These were my days in college. My nights of debauchery and wickedness. Nostalgia washes over me as I think of all these things, and what I remember the most is the sundress. Transitory beauty, never lasting, yet eternal, albeit briefly.