The Wistful Campus
The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended grey curtain that blurred the edges of the world outside the windowpane. Thomas sat in the center of the small, windowless room, his hands resting on his knees, fingers interlaced with a tightness that suggested he was holding his own skeleton together by sheer will. The room was a box of whitewashed walls and a single, unadorned table,...
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