The Wistful Asylum
Shinji Yamada sat at the desk, the resignation letter trembling in his hand, the ink drying too fast. The Wisteria’s True Name The cloister air was heavy with rotting figs. I had three weeks until my tenure review, and the index was unfinished. The vine in the courtyard bloomed red, a blood that defied the season. I signed the letter. "Intellectual exhaustion," I wrote, though the truth was the...
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