The Wistful Show
The train smelled of stale coffee and wet wool. It was a sensory assault that Gerald Vance, Professor of Computational Linguistics, had long since stopped fighting. He simply endured it. His eyes, behind thick-rimmed glasses that had slipped down his nose, scanned the blurred landscape of the English countryside. Grey fields. Dark trees. The relentless, indifferent rain. He held the box in his...
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