The Wistful Campus
The fog did not merely sit upon the campus of St. Jude’s; it consumed it. It was a living, breathing entity, a grey whale that rolled through the ivy-choked quadrangles, swallowing the spires of the old library and the sharp angles of the modern science block. Elias Thorne walked against its current, his leather satchel heavy against his hip, the brass zippers singing a discordant tune in the...
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