You are at the other end of the alley — or at the beginning, depending on your point of view. Ahead lies the street, where a lone car is parked, though it doesn't belong to you or your housemates. Bicycles are your only chariots, as is the way of students.
Halfway down the passage a window interrupts the brickwork, with a grille beneath it. A drainpipe clings to the wall, and above, the roof gutter runs its course. The bricks on either side seem close enough to graze your shoulders as you pass, but still you cycle through regardless.