The Wistful Campus
The dream was a corridor of shattered glass. Marcus walked on it. The shards bit into his boots, but he did not bleed. He walked toward a door that hummed with a low, electric blue light. Behind the door stood his brother, Leo. Leo was smiling. Leo was holding a mirror. Marcus woke up in the narrow bunk in the holding cell. The air smelled of stale sweat and industrial cleaner. He sat up. His...
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