Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • The streets are the same, though many of the storefronts have changed. The old Greek diner is gone, replaced by Einstein Bagels. Burger King hasn't moved, but where else would it go? Tulips fill the garden, though most of them have wilted. I hear a bassoon - scales practice - and a pianist performing in the old music rehearsal building. Memories rush back.

    I cross the street and enter the quad. My old dorm. All the bikes out front. (I wonder if the one I abandoned in '94 is still there.) Everything is green, in bloom, though a chilly fog is settling in just before sunset. The leaves are damp.

    I walk through the quad as undergrads in their Northwestern sweats approach me, lost in conversation. I try to avoid making eye contact but can't help it. I look at them and see young people my age. They look at me and see someone who could theoretically be their father. I continue my walk.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.