Realm: F-List Essays - Subrealm: Osirus
Apr. 4th, 2008 11:00 amThis time, let’s start the story in the middle.
It must have been near the beginning of the year, for I was still eating in Baxter, the default dining hall for Frosh. Baxter was (by Williams standards) enormous, and archaic, designed for an age that still had wait staff. And so it is now no more: replaced, at yet vaster expense than anticipated, by an ultra-modern, green-built student center; no more will freshmen dine there. But I still remember the sun streaming in those great Georgian-revival-revival windows, onto vanished white walls behind our table near the juncture of the two halves of the place. ( Read more... )
It must have been near the beginning of the year, for I was still eating in Baxter, the default dining hall for Frosh. Baxter was (by Williams standards) enormous, and archaic, designed for an age that still had wait staff. And so it is now no more: replaced, at yet vaster expense than anticipated, by an ultra-modern, green-built student center; no more will freshmen dine there. But I still remember the sun streaming in those great Georgian-revival-revival windows, onto vanished white walls behind our table near the juncture of the two halves of the place. ( Read more... )