live and love and sleep together.

She walked into my room, dropped her things, and looked outside as I picked up clothing off the floor and thought about taking my Vera Bradley duffel bag out of my safe. I glanced over at a growing to-do-list, filling my hamper more with each piece, and then looked at her.

"I'm trying to find someone to watch the sunset with me at Katzen." She looked at the window and I did, too, realizing that an orange glow was filling my room as Death Cab for Cutie (and, probably, Narrow Stairs at that) filled the ceramic cave.

I continued packing, perhaps arbitrarily or because I wasn't sure what to say back. I looked at my camera. Everyone was going home, and I was coming back in a mere five days. Should I even bring it home?

"Carmen, I'm trying to get you to take pictures of the sunset with me at Katzen."

So we walked downstairs, past the blacked-out reception desk, and I made sure I had my ID as we passed through doors that would soon become impossible entryways as less and less services were available on the hollow and empty campus. We ran across the street, up the sidewalk, and even across a red-light road to get

to a high wall, where I swung my grey jeans over the edge and sat, watching the sun set somewhere else.

"Fuck, it sets at Anderson!" We laughed and then more people appeared; Brandon was done with a piano lesson and Dan was walking down the street. I called Tim, and by the time everyone was gathered, I was talking about finally eating on another campus (this plan eventually failed) and trying my hardest to capture that beautiful still sky and the quiet, reflective silence that often fills groups of friends before they have to admit that they were never home.

"I guess we need a break."