It feels like only days ago that I was walking through the University Parks, ringed by waves of the greenest grass, the shiniest puddles, and the healthiest plants.
When I was seven, my grandma decided I was going to be a pianist. For the next twelve years, I sat through weekly piano lessons, despite a complete absence of enthusiasm for the instrument.
Everywhere you turn in Worcester, you see Chanel. And no, I’m not talking about thousand pound skirt suits, but the Provost’s West Highland Terrier.
It’s...