A story by faculty member Caitlin Horrocks appears at failbetter.com:

“Did you see the story on the news?” my old conservatory roommate asked. She was still piecing things together, weddings and lessons and part-time orchestra gigs. For years after I left New York, she asked if I still played at all, if I missed it yet. Eventually she stopped asking. Once my ex-husband conducted a concert she was playing in. “He had giant sweat stains under his arms by the end of the first movement,” she said, trying to tell me what she thought I’d want to hear. I knew I could trust her, with what to say to him and what not to. She wouldn’t mention all the weight I’d put on; she’d tell him I was happy in Ypsilanti. Mostly I am.

Continue reading online…

%d bloggers like this: