Waiting to enter the exam venue was its usual noisy affair. People around me were still talking loudly – the many voices forming a loud buzzing that resembled a million fluttering bees – when the gates into the pavilion were opened.
Three hours later, I exited the pavilion through the very same white gates, my heart as light as the clouds floating overhead. The exam wasn’t bad at all, the merciful Intellectual Property lecturer even had the good humour to base the last question on Harry Potter, which kept my energy pumping during the last hour of the three-hour exam.
On the way back into the City, relieved of the iron weight of exam revision, I suddenly noticed just how beautiful the fluffy white clouds were as they drifted idly across the crystal clear sky, like gigantic fairy-flosses.
We had lunch at a little dumpling shop near Chinatown. I munched through the plateful of steaming fat white dumplings with much gusto, savouring the thoughts that it was finally the end of the exams.