No more music

He was sitting there, as he had always sat there, stooped and grey, in his faded yellow armchair, with his hands folded neatly in his lap. The light from the faux chandelier turned his carefully combed strands of hair into gleaming wires of hair gel. With his meticulously pressed shirt, trousers and spit shined shoes, he could have been a walking ad for personal cleaniness.
Softly, in the background, a record was playing. The same record that had been playing for the past 7 years since Maggie had been taken away pressed on and delivered its soothing melodies. In the dimly lit room, with the chairs around the table arranged just so and the framed pictures on the mantlepiece lovingly positioned, the record could have played forever in an endless loop. Time, it seemed, within these four walls, had stood still.
What had become of those people whose pictures were so lovingly polished every night without fail under the dining room light? Who were they, these ghosts that carried within their every cell half a copy of their lost father's dna? And where were they now? Where were they?
She sighed. He must have fallen asleep after his evening meal. She reached forward to clear the table. The bowl of soup in front of him, however, was cold and untouched.
Somewhere, in the back of her mind, a voice told her what she already knew, but she had to confirm. With two fingers on the side of his neck she was sure.
In the sparse and scrupulously cleaned room where he had played his records all those years, she lifted the stylus off the spinning record and silence filled the air. There would be no more music.

Classes? Yesterday's headlines

Yesterday, at 10:45am, I put down my pen, got my stuff together, handed in my exam and walked out the door and into freedom.
Well...it was really two doors and two floors, but who's counting?
Ladies and gentlemen. In as official a tone as I possibly can manage of an un-official matter (it's not official till I am clad in cap and gown) I do declare that my undergraduate education is over.
Now don't be jealous. You'll have your moment. In time. Smirk.
And yet, although it has barely been 24hrs since the discovery of this freedom, I find I am already bored. I guess studying for class does have its uses.
So...what to do? Should I go invade the library of all its books for one last time? Take up residence at the Omac and bid a slow farewell to the cybex weight machines? Or discover my inner party whore?
I think I'll flip a coin. Or a rubik's cube, on account of having more than two options.

Can you flip a rubik's cube?

I kill with my heart

I do not aim with my hand; he who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father.
I aim with my eye.

I do not shoot with my gun; he who shoots with his gun has forgotten the face of his father.
I shoot with my mind.

I do not kill with my gun; he who kills with his gun has forgotten the face of his father.
I kill with my heart.

-Gunslinger's Creed