I could have sat in this very chair. Hard-backed red-oak with a gentle grove on the seat, a slight rise to divide the leg space.
Certainly I looked out these very windows. The asbestos tiles, waxed annually to a protective shine. Red oak bookcases. Brass lamps. All familiar, unchanged.
Walking around Chapel Hill has fueled lots of memories. But these chairs, the long tables, the brass table lamps -- its brought back the experience.
This spot makes me eager to refresh goals, feeling again youth's potential.
Potential I know still lives.
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