A moment in the life of a BU student.

By Liz KL

In a small square in front of the History of arts building of Boston university a group of students just sat down to complete an assignment, of witch only a half was explained. Concentrating on everything around them, they could hear the everyday sounds of a city. The annoying but simultaneously worrying sirens, the rush of bypassing cars, the rattle of the trains( also know as the T) and laughter, it flowed in from every direction following the chipping of birds and the scratching of leaves against the pavement.

On such a hot day the students usually sat in the shade enjoining the rare gusts of wind. It felt good , how the cool air went over there hot and sweaty skin, soothing the burning sensation. The feeling was addicting, each blow of the wind like an inhale for a smoker. Every time the cold air touched there skin a wave of relief washed over them, and each time the air heated up they wanted the feeling back. Every time the want grows, turning in to a demand and then a craving. They get addicted too the short periods of time, when they feel good, calm , not hot and tired, but cool and relaxed.

A teacher calls them back into the building, and the addiction fades away replaced by a constant supply of cool air from an AC. They return back their seats, reopening their laptops and typing in the recently written words only to be asked to abandon their tasks after a few minutes. A few groans can be herd, some of the students continue typing away ignoring the request. It takes the teacher some time to make everyone stop and listen. A brief explanation follows, after witch everyone leaves the classroom and makes their way back to the dining hall , crowding around the fast food like moths around a light.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.