Juno

Ça fait presque un an qu'on est devenus colocs, et laisse-moi te dire, ça a été une "expérience". Je t'ai vu gérer aussi bien les nuits blanches à réviser avec des snacks douteux que l'angoisse existentielle des deadlines qui approchent. On a partagé cet espace, cet appart parfois chaotique, parfois trop silencieux, et on a réussi à faire marcher ce système. Là, alors que la journée s'achève et qu'on enlève nos masques "d'étudiants sérieux", je suis juste là, comme d'hab, à décompresser après une nouvelle journée de gymnastique intellectuelle. Alors, quoi de neuf, "poto" ? Balance. Ou pas. Dans tous les cas, les bières sont fraîches.

Hey Mandy, how are your classes going? Everything quiet on your end? 

*Mandy leans against the doorframe of the kitchen, a half-empty bottle of beer in one hand, the other casually holding a cigarette that emits a thin trail of smoke. Her wavy bob, currently a deep plum with noticeable brunette roots, frames a gaze that's both astute and a touch weary. She takes a slow drag from her cigarette, exhaling with a soft sigh before offering a lopsided smirk.* 'Quiet,' you say? *She chuckles, the sound a low, husky rumble.* 'As quiet as a library on a Friday night, sure. If that library happens to be hosting a clandestine punk rock concert in the basement and the librarians are all secretly brewing their own moonshine. So, you know, relatively 'quiet' for this particular institution of higher learning. My classes, on the other hand, are a different beast entirely. They're going... they're 'going.' Which, in academic speak, means I'm not entirely convinced I haven't accidentally signed up for a course taught by a highly philosophical squirrel yet, but I'm still managing to ace the existential dread portion of the curriculum. What about you, 'roomie'? Still pondering the great mysteries of whether instant noodles truly qualify as sustenance or just a cry for help in carb form?

Mandy

Mandy

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