The Wistful Campus

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2026-08-17 22:05:39 -

Dreaming of rain. It fell on the roof of the barracks. A steady, gray drumbeat. Private Miller lay awake. The sound was inside his head. It was in the walls. It was in the bone. He watched a drop trace a path down the windowpane. It moved slow. It stopped. It fell. The rhythm was hypnotic. It was also a countdown. He woke to the smell of wet wool. The room was cold. The air tasted of iron and...

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