Somebody had tied a ribbon around the bench I had nearly knocked over two days earlier.
I chose a different bench.
The courtyard was filling slowly. Faculty occupied the first rows, families the places behind them. Students arrived in groups, talking until they saw the covered table beside the platform. Conversations dropped without an instruction passing through the crowd.
Remembrance of the Fallen fell on the first day of spring. The date had been printed on the academy calendar since I arrived. Until that morning, I had treated it mostly as a day which moved appointments.
A woman carrying a folded coat asked whether the place beside me was taken.
"No."
She sat, laid the coat across her knees and smoothed one sleeve. It was too small for her. I looked toward the platform before she could catch me looking at it.
