Article: 288609 of talk.bizarre
From: (Ranjit Bhatnagar)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: (repost) Easter Sunday
Date: 1 Dec 1996 19:26:31 GMT
Organization: University of Fitzgerald T C
Lines: 57
Message-ID: <57sm57$>

10 PM, Easter Sunday

"Plug them in here, and string the end out the front window."

We led the festive procession down the stairs and turned
left at the front door of the apartment building.  I had the
end of the string of tiny white lights, she was behind me,
and all the rest of us in single file, chatting, smiling.
Left at the corner.

I was afraid the tiny lights would break as we pulled them
around the second brick corner, but they didn't.  Watchers
in the door of the corner bar.  A toast!

I hadn't thought the string was this long.  It's
stretching-- we can't go much farther.  "We'll pull the
lights as far as they'll go", she said.  "And then we'll go
around the block once more, and pretend it's the first time
we've seen them."

6 AM, Monday.

I happened to be around when they delivered Billy Joel for
tonight's concert.  The huge truck pulled up into the
quadrangle behind the auditorium.  First they unloaded the
mattresses, then the star-laden stretcher.  "He's sleeping."
He was wrapped in a quilt-- the same pattern as mine!  A
small, drowsy crowd had gathered, with a chorus of OH! as
Billy tumbled off the stretcher and, shaking his head,
walked unsteadily towards the stage door.  We all followed,
treading carefully through piles of sheets and bedding.  I
had brought my own sheets, but it occurred to me that they
wouldn't fit the sofabed.

Brunch of leftovers.

In the apartment with the gang.  "This is a special day for
me-- the second anniversary of the first time I went
roller-skating on the morning after Easter."

I smiled at her.

"OK, just go ahead and do it.  I can't stand waiting for you
any more."

Oh, was that when I was supposed to ask her?

"Trespassers w"                       
        The surface of the water where they move swiftly about in curves.