The Wistful Campus
The envelope was thick, the paper heavy with the smell of damp wool and old ink, and Arthur Vane held it in his hands as if it were a live coal, the edges of the card already softening against his skin. It was a notice of review, the kind that usually preceded a promotion, yet the language within was dry as bone, citing a "lack of institutional loyalty" that Arthur could not fathom, for he had...
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