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“A place of learning felt dead in the hours of darkness. Full of departed pupils and ended conversations. Their abandoned slates still held the ghosts of words and figures of lessons forgotten. Chairs, like rows of scarred and battered soldiers, stood loyally behind their assigned tables, as was the school master’s orders. Not a thing was amiss.” — Marcel M. du Plessis
A place of learning felt dead in the hours of darkness. Full of departed pupils and ended conversations. Their abandoned slates still held the ghosts of words and figures of lessons forgotten. Chairs, like rows of scarred and battered soldiers, stood loyally behind their assigned tables, as was the school master’s orders. Not a thing was amiss.