The Wistful Campus
"Look at the stone," Silas said. He pointed. Not with a finger. With his whole arm. The arm hung loose. Dead weight. Elara looked. It was a pillar. Old. Grey. It stood in the square. The square was empty. The city was old. Not old like a book. Old like a bone. The bones of the city were showing. Brick and mortar and rot. Silas was young. Too young. He had eyes that saw too much. Eyes like...
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