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We’d known each other for years, the math professor and I, grew up a couple streets apart, both graduated from the University of Texas Honors Program, same friends, same goals, both like sushi, our coffee black, etc. I actually spoke with him briefly on my way out that night; I was supposed to pick him up the following afternoon. “Make sure and write it down,” Jason insisted. Sometimes I tend to forget things. However, this I still remember. Upon his return, he handed me a picture, a painting, my portrait, a hobby of his - art that is; Jason had published a similar piece on the cover of a Danish version of Joyce’s Ulysses a couple years back. He’d labeled mine “Persephone,” though, I never figured out why. After I dropped him off, I was gone.
Cuga