About Yi-Long (arts (advanced) (honours), 1st year)

It's funny when things get broken, but not when it's my heart.

"...and he proceeded his descent down the stairs in the twilight of a building quite similar to Manning - the salacious curling of smoke, the smell of stale beer so evocative of a 1950s crime fiction flick. With each step, the ground beneath him moaned, "Oh another uni student wearing Converse All Stars! My God, have some taste!"

At the bottom of the steps the half-light seemed to fade to nothing and all was a silent sea of black. Only a dot of light emanating from a keyhole at the opposite end of the void seemed to indicate some sense of continuous space, the story conveniently scripted so that Yi would realise his purpose was to walk towards that door.

Upon reaching it, and remembering that he didn't have a key, one conveniently apparated in the left pocket of his jeans (the right one holds his mobile phone). He stuck it in and turned (interpret here what you want). What was our hero to expect? Will he live or die? Find out on the

next line. The room, lit by a single swinging light bulb, was strangely bare. Yet along the floorboards were scattered various items: a half-eaten muffin, café postcards, updates from SUBSKI, Labour Club and Young Liberals, empty Stellas, a stack of various books and $5.10 in shrapnel.

"What's this supposed to mean?" Yi thought, "but I'll take the $5.10."

And as he kneeled to scoop up this week's food budget, he realised something, something that years of English and over-reading texts had taught him: this room was clearly symbolic of him, of his life, of his raison d'être..."