This is a story about decadent youth.
They said the walk to class was brief, just past the castle and across the bridge. You could take a tram but it wasn’t quite worth the price and you’d miss out on all the sights. So I took a stroll, in my poorly dressed winter wear. I can still feel the crisp air on my face, and the calm of the cobblestone. The only sounds were the chatter of the students and click click click of the trams rushing by.
