The Wistful Campus
The air in the Great Hall of St. Jude’s Academy hung thick and stagnant, a physical weight of candle smoke, roasted pheasant, and the musk of forty young men in velvet doublets. You sat at the head of the long oak table, your posture rigid, your hands folded tightly over the polished wood, feeling the grain beneath your fingers like the pulse of a sleeping beast. The feast was a spectacle of...
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