It goes like this...
You are a week away from going to Rochester to experience jazz, where a woman you have never met, but is your friend, is willing to house you. You are thinking of her and this kindness.
You remember those organic chemistry doodles you drew back in the day, 23 years ago. A design pops into you head. This woman who was a chemist and desires to teach chemistry. This is her design.
Sit in an Episcopal church listening to jazz and imagine a cross made out of carbon rings. You like that idea but your mind flows back to those old doodles.
Wake up on Sunday, after three nights of jazz, to a feast of fresh bagels with all the stuff that make them better. You continue to think about the design for this woman who has been so kind.
Draw the design with paper, pencil, and erasure. You erase and draw and erase and draw... then the design is there.
Make the design become glass and hang it in your window. You don't really want to take it out of your window, but you do. Place it into a box and hand it over to the USPS.
You notice your friend is gone from Facebook. She comes back and you ask her if she got the glass.
She says no. The USPS says they delivered it four days ago. You feel a wave of immense sadness. Feel the sadness. You try to keep some hope. Your friend says she will track it down. You remember all the scraps of glass you used up and know it would be difficult to duplicate. You don't want to duplicate it. You want it found.
It comes in the mail the next day. Your friend e-mails you.
You are happy and wish that you had either waited another day to ask about the glass or the post office had not said they delivered it if they only meant they had it stored in the post office or they had delivered it the day she got home with the rest of the held mail.