The Wistful Campus
The seal is black wax. It bears the crest of the university. You hold it in your palm. The wax is cold. It is brittle. It cracks under the slightest pressure. You do not break it. You look at the impression. The letters are deep. They are sharp. They are ancient. They are yours. You are in the library. The room is vast. The light is low. The dust motes dance. They are silver. They are alive....
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