The American Dream and Hotel Takeout

College is made-up.

This morning, the alarm went off at 3:45 and I leapt out of bed and turned on all the lights upstairs.

“Time to go to Oberlin!” I called out. Marshall pulled off his CPEP mask and then lay there on his back, staring at the ceiling. In the other room, Mary moaned and shifted beneath her antique, crocheted bedspread. The two kittens, who are basically teens now I think, were the most awake of any of us. They both sat alertly in the hall, attentive to my movements between the bedroom and the bathroom and the office. Pierre, the brown tabby with the feral, fearless gaze, climbed into my open suitcase and sniffed the clothes I had packed as if he might be able to ascertain our itinerary.

But Pierre, being a young cat, had no way of knowing that we were driving six hours to Oberlin College in Ohio for an info session and tour of the conservatory and then a private lesson with Alexa Still, the Oberlin flute professor from New Zealand.