My Friend Ruri

Minors still, she was only 16, we drowned in each others eyes. Stoic Asian features masked her lust for love and life. Together we sat in silence, learned and laughed. My Tai chi teacher opened closed doors for her. The sitar/tabla player coveted her as a student, maybe more. Zen Master Deshimaru engaged her in easy conversation in their native tongue. Her charm and talents were abundant and obvious to all. Her soul was like a deep bottomless well. Her spirit soared. Lord Krishna adorned the walls of her childhood bedroom. At a tenuous threshold, no longer child - not yet woman. Psychic, her nightmares foretold her drowning, still a minor at the tender age of only 19.

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