By Tress Klassen
Funny, heartwarming, ironic or weird—if I’ve seen it at ‘Cuse, I’ll write it here!
It’s late afternoon on an unexpectedly, uncomfortably hot day in Syracuse, and the stairs to the Mount are packed with students trudging up the steps. Everyone looks like they hate life right now, because they’re only a third of the way up—far enough up the stairs to feel the burning calf muscles, the seizing back, and dripping sweat, but still close enough to the bottom to wonder if this is a situation where crying is socially acceptable. The pace is sluggish, each step is a struggle.
And then out of nowhere, a guy comes racing up the stairs. He’s soaking wet and looks like he’s only about 90 pounds, and his backpack weighs about half that. But he’s all-out sprinting, taking two, three steps at a time—the kid is practically flying up the hill , grinning at everyone who stares at him in utter amazement. He’s gone in a matter of seconds, around the curve of the steps, but everyone who remains looks at each other, smiles in confusion, and picks up the pace.