This is it.
Yearbooks have been passed out, goodbyes said, suitcases packed.
Everyone was signing the yearbooks today, passing them around and promising to write, to stay in touch,
Professor Potsdam signed mine, as did Minnie, and Ellen, and... even Professor Grabiner. (He signed it 'Hieronymous,' and if anyone wondered why I clutched it to my chest afterwards and looked dazed, you now know why.)
Virginia couldn't be bothered with anything long, of course.
(My 'possible future career' was Researcher, and I was voted most likely to "go regimental."
What does that mean?)
It really made it sink in.
The end of freshman year.
It doesn't feel like an ending, not really.
It feels more like... a beginning.
...pff, alright, you've heard enough sentimentality.
Until next time,
-Illia Enola Rashemi