The Wistful Campus
The kettle screamed, a thin, metallic shriek that cut through the silence of the laboratory, and I turned it off with a trembling hand. The steam rose in a pale, ghostly column, curling toward the fluorescent lights that buzzed with the persistent, industrial drone of the university. It was late, or perhaps early; time had lost its linear grip on me weeks ago, dissolving into a thick, grey...
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