The Spoor

There is a hint of cataclysm on the air.

A whiff of doom.

A bouquet of blight.

A spoor of ruination in the nose…

Yes, I fear, the desperate hunt for Grad School Recommendations has begun.

No one truly knows the nut behind a pen.

And there lies my problem… and the stank of calamity in the room.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe, the girl behind the stink

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