It's sometimes funny what you manage to dig up when trying to archive your projects. There are always some projects that you started for some people out of an act of kindness, and, since they have been pet projects for everyone involved, died a slow and painful death, languishing in your projects folder, untouched and unloved.
What remains are the stories that come with those projects. Sometimes, they are better than the projects themselves.
Like, you know, this weird archive I have found. I had no idea what project this could be, and only after decompressing it, I remembered — well, half way at least. I won't give any names here, not just to protect the persons involved, but also because I can't recall them anymore.
It was supposed to be a collection of poems. I did not write them, I was just supposed to do the layout. Which was enough, because the poems were not something you would like to have your name associated with after some years. They were the kind of poems you write when you are a student and occasionally in and out of love.
The booklet was a team effort. She, the student who asked me to do the layout, was the driving force behind it. The other one, a guy, seemed to be more tagging along with her fancies.
And boy, did she have fancies. You could say that I found her remarkable, mostly in the way she seemed to embrace her girlishness. She had bracelets with heart-shaped ornaments. Most of her stuff was pink, and she took great care in getting that eyeshadow and lip gloss just right. I had a hard time taking her seriously. And I guess she took me looking at her the wrong way.
She started to talk to me. She left a spot open beside her in the lecture for me. She was very talkative about her projects. She started to involve me in her projects.