The Wistful Campus
The mirror in the hallway of my childhood home did not reflect me. It showed a version of me that was taller, slimmer, and wearing clothes I had never bought. I stood before it, my hands trembling at my sides, the cold air of the October evening seeping through the thin walls of the Victorian house. I was twenty-four, but the figure in the glass looked like it belonged to a different era, a...
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