My Yale - The Subterraneans
I am an underground creature.
Late on this Monday evening in September, Yale University’s campus is a skeleton. Quadrangles, benches, and cobblestone pathways provide the framework for a thriving college campus and yet lie empty of the students that give them daily life. The air hangs in silence. Only I venture through the void. After traversing Cross Campus, I descend a flight of stairs and passed through a glass door.
There, I find the skeleton’s missing flesh: students swarmed around granite tables and leather armchairs. “Are you guys ending up having a party?” “You’re...
