Finals week

As he walks out of the coffee shop, the murmur of studious voices dies behind him, replaced by a ghastly silence. The moon shines brightly through the thick haze that hangs over campus, lending an appropriate surreal atmosphere to the tranquil night.
The pathways, usually traversed frequently at all times of day, lie empty, betraying the anxiety and stress of examinations that causes their abandonement.
Is it just coincidence that we read Dante this semester, and still have the quote "Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here" lingering in the recesses of our minds?

He continues his walk across campus, thoughts flickering through his head, when he realizes the mist is so thick he can't see any of the buildings, even though he stands in the middle of campus, under the solitary lamppost, the flourescent light illuminating the fog almost as brightly as the moon, and the jasmine bush overwhelming his sense of smell. He tries not to think about the relation of sense to potential and agent intellect as expounded upon by Aristotle in De Anima.

Suddenly, out of the fog, three freshman come skipping down from St. Bernard's, singing lustily, their crazed demeanor evident from their gait.

It is not surprising, dementia is one of the most common symptoms of finals week.
They pass by him, back into the haze whence they came.

As he continues his walk in the swirling mists, a theme starts in his head.

Finals week truly turns TAC into "The Twilight Zone."

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