is this a christmas song? i ask.
my partner shrugs. some people think it is.
i tell a story, one i don't think i've told her in our two decades together: my first year in university, i was in a loose ensemble with a bunch of friends. a mix of traditional instruments, electronic musicians, pedals, effects. the first semester, a friend's family was away for a weekend. we arranged rides, packed up cars, gathered at his acreage. and into the night we played and recorded. some pieces fully our own, some improvisations off other pieces. one of these, my favourite things. i remember the dark outside, few lights on in the house. n. beside me, rail thin, his toothy smile and sparse stubble. a tenor sax in his bony hands. our host on drums. j. directing traffic.
i brought my flute. i must've played that. did i bring anything else? not guitar; not yet. that night a few months after i met the girl who was in my life for a few weeks, and who i'd talk to for years. she was the one who told me i should learn to play guitar, and the one i fell out of contact with a few years later; who went overseas for love, and who i've never talked to since.