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November 25, 2007
I was on campus walking towards the memorial union, near the palm trees. There was sidewalk, a building pulling steadily nearer. Grass on either side. It was warm, almost summer in tempe.

There was a shimmering going over the world, like oil ready for frying tortillas. Shimmering with a hot kind of readiness— shades of gouramis and tiny fancy fish scales tied to trees with strings. There was a rushing sound, the kind you think will never stop. I was dazed, captivated. I was slain by it: the absolute, shocking gorgeous gleam the world suddenly shone under. I was doomed.