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It's Turning

I spent the morning and early afternoon curled in a leather armchair in the back corner of Diesel, reading the novel of the moment and sipping my habitual iced coffee with cream. It is the first weekend that the crowd has included undergrads, and the air reverberated with their early gripes about Virgil and Intro to Electrical Engineering and their hushed gossip. When I rode my bike back home in the mid-afternoon heat, a warm breeze ruffled my skirt and tickled my thighs, yet something felt distinctly different this afternoon from others. It is the feeling of summer's end.

Comments

Michael said…
Summer's end doesn't matter anymore when one is a year-round corporate whore.
NMD said…
and so i retreat to academia, where the end of summer marks the passage of time and initiates new adventures!

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