The Wistful Campus
The rain has not stopped for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that blurs the boundary between the muddy track of the Appalachian foothills and the treeline where the shadows seem to stretch longer than the day should allow, and you are walking, your boots heavy with the silt of the valley, your back aching with the specific, dull throb that settles into the muscles of a man who has spent...
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