The sound of a shattering windowpane punctured the stream of conversation; the Deans of the College turned toward the now-amplified sound of shouting in the streets.
A rock lay on the floor, surrounded by tiny, shining splinters, and wrapped with a piece of parchment and a fine pink satin ribbon.
The Chair of Fine Arts stooped over to pick it up. “
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I had a hard time deciding whether to set it in a real place or a fictitious one. I think I like the place I came up with, which I imagine as a cross between 19th century US and UK.
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Great entry!
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