Word: petered
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Past Snyde I saw her again. She. Her. Oh, hell...Snyde says her name is Peter. It really is, he says. I'd watched her all fall...my class notes were filled with dreams...
...Peter..." I said. Suddenly I was breathless, almost speechless, practically without a metaphor from desire. Hot desire. Warm, tanned, crimson desire. That she should come with me. Through the cold December Yard into the pink April of Albiani's for some coffee--April, no extensions--just in case, I borrowed twenty cents from Snyde...
Suddenly one night, as I was walking beside Peter up Garden Street, it hit me. He was chaperoning. Him. My buddy. I ran all the way back to the room. I must know. "Snyde," I pleaded with him, "What is it? You've got to tell me. If you don't, who will...
...fled to the Patisserie Cafe Morceau. It was warm there too; though the sky was apple green, the pastries were aging but good. I loved to see Peter's strong teeth clamping down over them, demolishing them; I felt demolished too, and would order more. "Garcon," I would say to the diseased French girl who presided behind the marble-topped, crumb-lined counter, "por favor, una fumata fur meine fraulein." "Mynheer," she would always reply, smiling, and bring us another of Peter's favorite pear-filled, chocolate-covered fumates. You do not get such fumates everywhere. We would stay there...
After intermission, Elliot Forbes, conductor of the Glee Club and Choral Society, conducted a group of Christmas pieces, including a large group of modern works, and ending with three carols by Peter Warlock, whose orchestration sounded like something out of Hollywood. But they were an effective finish to a very enjoyable concert, and sent the audience home cheerful and happy...