A week after torrential rains, we settle into torrential 30-degree weather. The mud puddles that dominate campus have all frozen, with shoeprints still embedded, so our campus looks like the light side of the moon where astronauts dip their feet once, and the prints remain forever.
One more exam remains, and I hang by the lingering thread of a 48-hour caffeine cycle. I do not sleep much. I have become very still.
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