I keep my window open when I’m afraid to go outside. But the weather’s been good—warm and honest, in that when one day is seventy degrees, the next few are too. And I like this, the idea of going out, knowing what to expect, and getting what I want.
I have also been dishonest. Dishonest, in that I believe I will want to go outside and feel the first breeze of the year and see everybody I know. I’ll step out of my dorm and open its big iron gate with the full lean of my all body weight. The sounds of College Street traffic will truck me, roaring muffler removed beater cars, horns, motorbikes, sirens, and some pounding, bass-boosted song I remember from online.
I will walk to Cross Campus, because everybody I know would too. And it will be just as I imagine: everybody I know, all at once. I sit with this part the longest. I keep my window open.
