The Wistful Campus

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2026-08-17 23:04:12 -

The rain had not stopped in three days, a relentless, industrial drumming against the leaded glass of the window that framed the courtyard in a blur of grey water and dying oak leaves, and I sat there in the heavy wool of my uniform, watching the mud swirl around the roots of the central tree, that gnarled, ancient oak which the students called the Warden’s Spine, though to me it was simply the...

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