As I approached this ancient building of brick and stone, I noticed there were many repairs and fixtures made all over. Some of the roof was in different tile, some paint was a different pattern. As if touched by many unique souls across time, instead of one soul in an instant.
Coming closer and closer I could finally make out the bold words above the doorway:
SCHOOL OF PHILOSOPHY
it read.
I rapped on the large oak door, not expecting a reply but because I had no choice. A slat opened which was previously unnoticed, and an eye glared outward.
He spoke what I presumed to be a sort of password.
“Are you wrong?”
“Yes”, I replied.
The oak door creaked to the side.
