Through a melting window in one of the house’s most filthy, most literary rooms was a lonesome telephone pole where hardly anyone had ever pondered mortality. Inside, members lay in a heap, surviving on smoke and metaphysical poetry.
It is the time of year when we find ourselves floating within in-betweens. To capture this quality/state/feeling, FM set out to find 15 of the most liminal spaces on campus.
Every way you turn, scooters are taking over campus. What route do you take?
Don't you fret, young Harvard student. This is the perfect time to be productive.