The Wistful Campus
The letter from the District Board arrived on a Tuesday, its envelope unmarked save for Elias Thorne’s name in a sterile, sans-serif font. It was the third such notice in two months, each one stripping another layer of autonomy from the Harrow Creek Academy, a crumbling stone structure nestled in the hollow of the valley. Elias, forty-two, stood in his office, the air thick with the scent of...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews