-A. “Cliché” Roth
The dorm room is big, maybe even bigger than the Plano bedroom of my yesterday.
The dorm room is empty, its walls are posterless, my roommate not arriving until tomorrow.
The dorm room is plain, no colors on the walls, no exciting pieces of art-deco furniture (unless stale wooden desks are considered to be “in.”)
The dorm room is cold, the air conditioner is on full Hoth-blast, and it is impossible to turn the donkey-wheel of temperature.
The dorm room is home, big and empty and plain and cold, and I am finally here.
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