The Wistful Skyline
The rain hammered against the leaded glass of the faculty office, a rhythmic, relentless drumming that seemed to underscore the silence between us, a silence that grew heavier with every second that passed without a word from you, Elias Thorne, forty-two, a tenured historian at a crumbling New England college who wanted nothing more than to secure your position by publishing a definitive...
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