The Wistful Campus
The wax dripped, a thick amber bead sliding down the edge of the oak desk, pooling on the floorboards where the damp had already begun to rot the wood, and you watched it harden into a brittle scar that would not hold the door shut, knowing with a cold certainty that this was the final attempt to seal out the cold that lived in the walls of your study at the University of St. Andrews. The ink...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima