Cutting Through - Writing 7, Marmot Gladiators

Oh, silly Asian dorks at Case, why must you always be in such a hurry? I witnessed your kind at the very first day of the school year, charging across the Quad ten minutes before classes began to get to your advanced science classes in the Rockefeller physics building. My wonder was compounded by the fact that the first week of the semester is the shopping period, when students are not bound to stay in the classes they attend, and when most professors give cursory information about the course and don’t even expect consistent attendance. I watched you run alongside the Circle Link buses—which come every ten minutes—to catch rides to dorms that are a mere five minute walk away. I saw you jog up the stairs of the library only to sit at a table, pant heavily, and, reddened, sigh and fixate on your untranslated manga. Perhaps I will never understand you, for you are a black box: impenetrable, contextless, and socially isolated.