From the 19th: I was back in Mexico City (where I’d been IRL with the class a couple weeks earlier) on a clear, frosty morning. The particular place I remember was a parklike area on the north side of an east-west highway at the point of a highway exit, where ramps spiraled down to the side roads; the park’s grassy and rocky areas continued underneath the highway, with the rocks covered with an ice glaze in places. One of my friends went up on the exit ramp and sprinted back down toward the rest of us (there wasn’t really any traffic to contend with).

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