A vast, white wall appeared a month ago, bisecting Coates Commons and the food court. This phenomenon has left students confused, starved and aimlessly wandering in search of food and other facilities.
In response to the food scarcity, first-year poli-sci major Guy Maynard notably barricaded himself into Mabee Dining Hall’s glass meeting room, only exiting to bribe the chefs and exercise his monopoly on cookies every time a new batch was made.
“I don’t really know what’s going on. I just eat at Mabee. Specifically Mabee cookies. There’s been an influx of people eating here, and weirdo upperclassmen keep trying to bargain with me,” Maynard said. “So I gotta take what’s mine. It’s economics, right? No sharing. You’re not getting in here either, so go away. Mine.”
On upper campus, students have also been struggling to survive. Senior anthropology major Heeny O’Maura was found just before her 8:30 a.m. class, nursing wounds next to Miller Fountain.
“You know, I’ve started having visions after going so long without food. It’s like, my Old Testament class was right, y’know? Earlier today I followed what I thought was a horse into the fountain, then it tried to kill me. See, I have the scratches and everything.” O’Maura paused as she showed off her stick-splinted, mud packed forearm. “Y’know, I dunno what that thing was, but it’s a good thing my natural simian aggression kicked in at the last second. I was all hunter-gatherer, then wham!”
On the second floor of Coates, ethereal happenings also abound. Junior biology major Daedalus Grant has been lost in Coates for almost a week.
“What? Who are you. Have you ever been up here? Can you help me?” Grant looked blearily around Skyline, then pointed at a potted plant. “Those. They told me bathrooms were up here. I can’t find them. I always thought it would be cool to piss in a potted plant, but I’ve been doing it for three days now. I can’t find the stairs down. I only go from plant to plant …”
After speaking, Grant continued wandering in circles, drawn towards a plant every time he neared the entrance to either the bathrooms or the stairs.
When asked about the impact the wall has had on his life, sophomore art history major Jamison Nikolas expressed uncertainty unrelated to the question.
“I certainly haven’t heard anything coming from it. No, no construction, but, uh, that’s to be expected. No breathing! No laughing, either! And absolutely no clear, bell-like tinkling that really, really makes me want to dance,” Nikolas said.
Sweat visibly beaded on Nikolas’ forehead as he declined further comment with silence and vigorous hand-flapping that generally translates to: “Leave me alone, your questions are dangerous and I’ll have no part in them even if it’s your duty to report distilled truths.”
Junior art major Juliette Pogoh was one of the few who seemed to willingly express interest in the wall. She was found peering at the wall and responded with surprising directness to questions concerning it.
“Oh! Yeah! I saw inside there. Through the door! It’s like it’s another world; I didn’t even recognize it! There’s like, some sort of portal thing going on there, its gotta be,” Pogoh said.
Pogoh later requested a second, impromptu interview while standing in a South Hall window, eyes strangely bloodshot in the evening light. Pogoh continuously smoothed down the hair on either side of her head as she spoke.
“What I said earlier? Lies. Don’t worry about it. Side-note, if you ever wanna, say, make a bargain, or ask for a trade for an A on your finals, somethin’ nice. Feel free to direct requests towards the wall. You’ll get heard. It’ll only cost a few fingers, maybe a firstborn,” Pogoh said ominously.
The wall declined to comment on events, though it was asked very nicely to give up its secrets in return for a pinky finger.
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