The Wistful Campus

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2026-08-18 17:55:06 -

The fog rolled in off the harbor each morning, thick and grey, swallowing the iron gates of St. Jude’s Academy before the bell could ring. Inside, the air was always stale, smelling of chalk dust and damp wool. Arthur Penhaligon sat at his desk in the fourth year, his hands folded tightly in his lap, staring at the window. Outside, the city of Bristol stretched out in a tangle of brick and...

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