The Wistful Campus

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2026-08-21 11:16:40 -

The banquet hall smelled of roasting lamb and stale beer, a thick, cloying fog that seemed to settle into the fabric of our skins, weighing us down with a humidity that had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the suffocating certainty of belonging. We sat in long rows of wooden benches, the polished surfaces reflecting the dim amber light of the chandeliers above, which...

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