This is the first time I've ever seen newspaper sellers out walking the streets, calling "Extra, extra!" There's a special issue of the Iowa City Press-Citizen covering the bombings. Leah, Courtney and I bought copies from someone who was probably the editor -- they were still warm, and he was sucking on a 3/4ths-smoked cigar.

I haven't managed to reach my parents yet. Dad doesn't work downtown any more, and I'm just hoping Mom and Renato didn't decide to go shopping in town today or anything like that. Haven't heard from Colin either, and he's in Montrose, not far from downtown - which, I understand, is being evacuated.

C-kun? If you're reading this, go stay with your parents tonight. Or my parents, shit. Go mack on Tatya for the evening or something. Just please don't be downtown.

Fuck me. Months ago, we were just talking idly about future prospects, and I said, "If we got into a war with, say, China or someone, would you enlist?"

"Yes," he said. And I understood, at the time. Hell, I guess I still understand. And maybe I'm worrying unduly; there's been no declaration or anything like that, not yet. But I don't often end up faced with even the prospect of losing someone I love. Especially when that prospect is their own choice.

I feel numb and stretched out and so very far away.

There's Bass in the department fridge from the other night. Maybe I'll take one to class with me.