The Wistful Campus
Stone does not breathe. That is the first thing Thanasis Makris learned in the garrison, and the last thing he could forget. He stood on the northern rampart, the wind cutting through his tunic, and felt the masonry shudder against his palms. It was a low vibration, felt in the teeth before the ears, a domestic hum that the other officers dismissed as settling. Thanasis knew better. The wall...
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