When I woke again an hour or so later to the sound of the radio, they were saying something about an earthquake. Ohhhhhhhh! I said to myself. That explains it!
The radio also gave me a nice little tribute to Danny Federici, playing the last bit of "You're Missing" when his organ solo kicks in -- so plaintive and mournful and yet rising with hope. And I got sad about his death all over again.
Later on in the morning, about 11:15, I was sitting in a small conference room with my boss. I had my back to the door, and the door started rattling. I turned to see who was trying to get in, and nobody was there. Knock knock. Who's there? Aftershock. Aftershock who? (That one was a 4.5.)
I'd never felt an earthquake until today. It's quite unsettling.
At lunchtime I drafted a bit of a poemy thing. It's pretty sentimental, but it was that kind of day really.
[there was an elegy sort of thing here ... if you want to see it, especially Bruce/E street fans, feel free to email.]
|photo credit: Guy Aceto/Backstreets|
And the poets down here don't write nothin' at all,
They just stand back and let it all be...