The carnage of the semester is strewn out across this fair city as if tornadic winds carried it there. Walking the nine blocks to campus is like creeping into a war zone. A war of college. Shards of brown beer bottles dot the pavement of sidewalk and street. Every other yard contains an empty case of beer and an emptier feeling. The houses stand erect with curtains drawn, doors shut, and shutters slammed as if expecting the next big storm to come tonight. Even the ashes of a improvised bon fire didn't surprise me on the walk today.

The cans, wrappers, and cups are used ammunition left in the yards. Filling the branches of the trees and decorating the bushes. The sounds, the odors, the sights all smell sweet to me. Overwhelming my senses, pouring life into my soul.

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