The residential campus

By Cheever Griffin


It’s a rainy September evening on Navarre Street about a mile or so south of campus, and the living seems easy. Inside a two-story, rickety-looking house a couple of guys lie stretched on a pair of garage-sale couches watching Dazed and Confused, a decent slacker movie, for about the fifth time. Past them, in what is technically the dining room, a well-worn pool table stands next to a blue chest-high keg refrigerator, with not one but two taps. Deeper inside is a well-lit and spacious kitchen, where a mound of pots, pans, cups and plates rises from the sink. Upstairs, a thinly carpeted hallway separates a series of bedrooms, all of them crammed to the gills with queen-size beds, computer stations, dressers, desks and various knickknacks.…

Read More