The Wistful Campus
You feel the cold first. It is a wet, industrial chill that seeps through your boots, soaking into the marrow of your shins. You are walking. You have been walking for hours. The fog is thick here, a gray wall that swallows the world beyond a few steps. You are in the wilderness, or what passes for it on the edge of the city. The air smells of coal smoke and rotting leaves. You are an...
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