The Wistful Campus
The world did not end with a bang, nor with a whimper, but with the sudden, catastrophic, and absolute dissolution of the left side of my body into a mist of grey, swirling ash that smelled distinctly of burnt copper and old, forgotten libraries, an event that occurred on a Tuesday afternoon while I was standing in the middle of a muddy field, trying to explain to a terrified, wide-eyed boy...
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