The Night I Slept With Kurt Vonnegut

Did I ever tell you this story? No? Here it is in the Huffington Post:

The Night I Slept With Kurt Vonnegut

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photo by katiemarinascott

It was a nasty night in New Orleans. Torrents of rain–at once pounding and windswept. Filling and rising. We were sheltered, on the floor. The carpet was damp. My clothes were matted beneath me.

That night was unforgettable. But, the best part of the story happened ten years later in New York City, 2005.

It was the first day of the fall semester at The New School. I registered for a writing class as a continuing ed student. It had been over twenty years since I was in school, back then a psych major. I had recently started writing a novel (it chose me, I did not choose it) and it was time to decide what to do with this living, breathing thing that had taken over my life.

I took a seat somewhere in the middle of the tiny classroom and noticed, as the others trickled in, many of them looked like freshman. It would be hard to blend–best not do anything to bring attention to myself. continue reading

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7 thoughts on “The Night I Slept With Kurt Vonnegut

    1. That’s fabulous, Judee! Thanks for sharing. I’m so glad it made you laugh. I can finally laugh all these years later. The night in the airport did test me, however.. no laughs that night! xo

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