The wind whipped through the trees above my head, drowning out all other sounds. The moon was a mere sliver of luminescence, only faintly casting it’s light on the cold evening. I had just finished work, and was walking down the campus mall back to my apartment. Almost nobody was in sight, since it was midnight on a school night. Only a single woman was walking towards me on the other end of the path, carrying a side bag and looking towards the ground.
December nights in San Diego can get surprisingly cold from time to time. After throwing a thermal over my t-shirt, I pulled over the thickest sweatshirt I could find and slid my jeans right over my warm sweats. In the process, I remembered a pair of purple wool gloves that I took from Mama Lewis just before I left Oregon and covered my hands. Opening the door, I turned to my roommate sitting at his desk, dreading the difficult conversation to come, I mumbled, “I’m going to tell [a friend].” Walking out the door, I heard an empathetic “good luck” slipped through just before it closed.