The Wistful Campus
The left hand is the only part of a man that does not lie. Or so Sergeant Elias Thorne told me, his voice flat and dry as old parchment, before the fog swallowed the horizon and the world began to tilt. We were walking the perimeter of the Blackwood Expanse, a stretch of industrial wasteland where the smog from the steel mills in Ashworth hung so thick it felt like breathing through wet wool....
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