Inside was nearly always packed with hipster type locals being stars. The acoustics were foul, the beer was chilled but not cold, and fun times were never far. Hanging from the ceiling is an antique style car with two dolls in the front seat that match the era. The old woman with gray hair is wearing glasses and a flowery dress, the gentleman a gray suit (at least that's how I remember it...) It took me a few years to even notice it was there.
I searched for the poem/story, but was too impatient to wait to write this. But, what I wanted to say is a story can be found in every space, every person, every inch of this world and it subjects us to more meaningful thought.
How was the story meaningful? I suppose for me it painted a romanticized vision around something I definitely resonated with during that class. It represented a love bond that did not want to be broken. A reverse Romeo and Juliet, if you will. Fiction is as fiction does. Draws us into corridors we can't experience in the drudgery of mundane existence. And that is where creation begins. We are born creators, without imagination we are simply mortal beings existing to exist.
In summary, surround yourself with others who paint a vision around what they see, sense and experience. Logic is for work and necessity, but vision makes the Earth spin and is also how we find out anything and everything.
