By: Noeka Nimmervoll, Staff Writer My university life was garbage. Except for that time of the day when I’d find myself in front of my favourite place, Café Pour Moi — where heaven meets my mouth, where I’d get my little treat of choice, an éclair. That cream that oozed out as soon as you took a bite, the chocolate that crunched just enough, the treat that was carried by the most perfect vessel of pastry encasing a velvety soft egg custard. My éclair was the one perfect thing in my life. So, one day, after a morning of boring…
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