The Wistful Campus
The bell above the door of St. Jude’s University Archives did not ring so much as exhale, a dull, metallic sigh that settled into the dust motes dancing in the late afternoon light. Arthur Pendelton stood behind the heavy oak desk, his hands resting flat on the surface, palms down, as if he were pressing down on the chaos of the world rather than simply organizing files. He was sixty years old,...
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