The Modernism tutorial was OK, and for once I could speak with self-assurance, having done all that was required of me. We have to read Eliot’s “The Wasteland” for next week.
The rest of the day crawled languidly by, grey-skied out and gloomy within. Penny and her boyfriend of two years have split up: she told me this and just stood gazing out the window. Everyone else had departed out into the bleak wetness to go to the Accommodations office.
I, instead, was a vision of grey lethargy, sprawled in the corridor in the dingy light of the cold blank afternoon.
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