-You have to be up by 7 am tomorrow morning. You set your alarm for 5:55. You wake up at 4 am because your kidneys are screaming for release, and by the time your head hits the pillow again your alarm is buzzing. It’s 6:55. You could have sworn you set it for 5:55. You panic. It doesn’t matter. Your first class doesn’t start until 9.
-Your literature class has twenty-five students. You raise your hand often in that class. Only four other people ever raise their hand. Somehow, everyone else has found a way to remain silent for the entirety of the semester. You don’t know the sound of the girl’s voice who sits to your left. There is no girl who sits to your left. You are the only one of two students sitting in the front row. You are an island in a class of silent eyes.
-It is possible that your upstairs neighbors are actually sumo wrestlers, or perhaps professional clog dancers. You’ll never know. The RA on duty has never been around in time to check. The upstairs neighbors remain faceless. But never noiseless.
-Everyone’s schedule is so busy that every time you make plans with friends they ask to take a raincheck for next week. Next week never comes. It is always this week. “Next week” is just an empty promise.
-A student whose age you could never guess walks down the street on his way to class. He wears a t-shirt and worn leather sandals. It is thirty degrees outside. You don’t question it. No one does.
-It is raining today. Classes are not real. No one speaks of happy things. You all wonder when the sun will shine again. If it will shine again.
-There is a new building under construction this semester. There is always a new building under construction. You have never been in a single new building. You plan to take a look in one of them at some point. Something tells you you never will.