The following piece is an excerpt from The Whip’s ‘new writing’ scheme, capturing glimpses of everyday life on campus.
Lights up. Source Cafe, Hawthorns. Students are going about their day to day lives, exchanging emotions, secrets. Friendships are being evolved, renewed; Coursework put to one side, for the assigned reading of the Now.
From the two oak wooden glass doors enters Daniella. She sports a leather jacket and a polyester grin- cheap, synthetic, and highly practical.
She walks in, surveying the crowd, avoiding the eyes of the gentlemen in Champion.
‘Hi, can I help you?’
The words sound like wind-chimes, they startle Daniella from her daze. She approaches the till, purchases a small beverage and a Coronation Chickpea without mayonnaise. It occurs to her that life is without mayonnaise nowadays.
‘Did you see Legally Blonde’
‘Yeah it was magical’
The crowd moves on, time to sit, to think. Daniella does so, recalling how once her French teacher told her ‘Asseyez vous’ for the final time.
She finds a seat by the window overlooking the construction of the new Library. The sounds and aromas of the Source cafe wash over her.
‘If we’re going Prague I’d rather not dick about. Let’s do the whole 3 nights.’
‘No I didn’t sleep with him, we just played together on his Switch’
She takes a swig of her macchiato and looks down at her sandwich as if she has never seen it before. With all the energy of an eccentric lecturer mid flow she bites down on the bread, the dryness, the absolute lack of texture, of flavour giving her a euphoric, highly sexual pleasure.
‘Choke me daddy’ she whispers, recalling Foucault’s discussion about how food is sex, how absolute freedom is absolute control. She drops the bread, falls to the floor in fateful ecstasy. Ah, but to die, to live.