A Fog-Picture

By OLIVIA FARRAR It’s early September. The weather is unpredictable, oscillating between oppressively hot and unexpectedly bitter. On Thursday I huff and puff into class with sweat-stains on my backpack, and on Friday I go back to my little dorm room at night, close all my windows, turn off my two turbo-fans, and pull the comforter down from where I tucked it in the back of my closet. Since the weather is so melodramatically inconsistent, it’s a favorite topic in the dining halls, public restrooms, and the corridors between classrooms. Yes, the temperature is cold today—you’re right, it was hot …

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