The Wistful Campus
The letter lay on the oak table, its edges already curling in the dry heat of the scriptorium. Elara read the name *M. Ashworth* at the top, then her own, *E. Vane*, written in a hand that trembled slightly, as if the writer had been cold. The body of the note was brief, a bureaucratic dismissal of her previous tenure at the university library, citing "incompatibility with institutional...
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