Previous chapter:
Chapter 175: Academy Life Starts XXXII
Next chapter:
Chapter 177: The First semester I
PREVIEW
... hort strokes. Angle changed twice to meet a lip the wrong builder had left in the mortar. Water. Air. Dry. He knelt to erase a little crescent his first pass had pretended not to see. He stood. He stepped back and let the room tell him if it had a complaint left.
The room had no complaint left.
He set the brush down very carefully, the way you set a tool you know will still be your friend tomorrow. He looked at the floor. Not at his work — at the floor. It was the floor again. It ...
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE



























