She looked at me.
She said: good.
I said: thank you.
She said: ready?
I said: no.
She said: neither am I.
She said: let’s go.
The ballroom was on the second floor.
There was a registration table at the entrance.
A woman was sitting at it.
I recognized her.
She had been in my biology class.
Her name was Jennifer, and she had been one of the ones who made the
hallway what it was.
Not the primary architect of it.
One of the laughers.
She looked up from the table.
She looked at me.
I watched her face.
The moment of not recognizing.
The moment of beginning to recognize.
The specific moment of recognition that happens when a face that you have filed away under a particular image does not match the image in front of you.
She said: can I help you?
I said: I’m Claire Weston. Class of 2004.
