Last week I had one of the most enjoyable and educational days I can remember. It came by inversion of fate that became fate itself, a seizing of a warm autumn day. The night before, I was disgusted by my return to an existence fenced-in by full-time manual labor for a meager wage. I arranged to meet a friend at the old abandoned library in the morning. It would be a perfect day for a derive.
A derive? Translated from French, it means an “aimless walk” or “drift” — but in …