i suffered through another hour of fluid dynamics, fighting off sleep and trying desperately to concentrate. But on what? The professor spoke and gesticulated on and on about the effect of the Reynolds number on drag force and the transition from laminar to turbulent flow past a cylinder, all things that may be on the final. The final. Only two weeks away and it currently holds the key to fishing my grade out of the toilet.

She's only two weeks (plus a few hours) away and currently has the key to my heart. Not to mention she's winning the war with fluid dynamics in my head.

Somehow or another, the diagrams and messy scribbles made their way through my preoccupied mind and onto the blank paper. Velocity potential must have potential flow. Potential flow is an idealized fluid flow that has neither viscosity or vorticity. In a nutshell, it's fluid that flows easily and isn't rotating.

Thoughts, images, smells and tactile memories of one of the best weekends of my life defied this ideal. They've firmly set and are part of me - swirling, tenaciously penetrating further into my mind.

The building is new, only opened this year. Work on a patio and large sidewalks behind the building continues, but the interior is complete and functional. A tremendous display covered with all manner of gears, integral tables, patents, technical papers and other flotsam and jetsam that Mechanical Engineers might even be tangentially interested in dominates the lobby. A quotation from David Elton Trueblood spans part of the bottom edge.
A man has made at least a start at discovering the meaning of human life when he plants shade trees under which he knows full well he will never sit.

We shuffled out of the classroom and i made my way down the half-finished steps and onto the fresh sidewalk, flanked by large triangular areas of red dirt and other rubble of the building process. She just won't leave my head. It feels so good. This has to be most delicious torture. Just to the right of the sidewalk, a fresh drainage grate sat in its new casing of set but still wet concrete. Mr. Trueblood's words briefly ran through my head. i stopped walking and bent down.

This world needs more permanence. More signs of intelligent life. More hope and love. The look on her face when she woke up, all freckles and those dark green eyes ringed with blue focused in my mind. i knew the sidewalks would be finished soon. Brick inlays and more concrete were to come. i reached out a finger and with all my strength i wrote


in the firm concrete, full well knowing no one else may ever see it.

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