The Wistful Campus
The train that carried us into the heart of the Empire was not merely a conveyance of iron and steam but a moving monument to the inevitability of our own dissolution, a long, groaning beast that seemed to drag the very air behind it in a veil of soot and exhausted hope as it rolled through the valley where the mist clung to the willows like a shroud draped over the shoulders of the dead. We...
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