it's 70 outside, shorts weather in the middle of november. from mark's cafe, you can look out over the main square of perelman quad, the iconic broken button, falling yellow leaves swirling around in the wind like so much confetti. the air has been rinsed clean by yesterday's rain. someone is having office hours at the table next to mine, a curly-haired TA and an earnest african-american undergrad workshopping a paper comparing superman to jesus christ. the sunlight is bright, intense, it comes off the ledges and railings in blinding shards, and the world smells like hazelnut and toasted bagels.