update from sparkleup

writing/sawtooth/limerent-object/prequel.html

@@ -48,7 +48,7 @@
 <p>He had five minutes until the library closed, which, he figured, was enough time for him to return the book and start the walk back to his apartment without needing to endure any encounters with the pages sweeping the stacks for lingering students. Sure enough, the only other person he encountered on his way out was the page who numbly accepted his book at the returns desk. A wordless exchange &mdash; no small talk, not even a thank you.</p>
 <p><em>Perfect.</em></p>
 <p>The Minnesota air hung heavy around him. The air seemed as loath to relinquish the heat of day as the year was to give in to autumn, but now it was nearly eleven, and the long hours of evening had managed to pull some of the warmth. Mosquitoes drifted lazily beneath the trees, leading Dee to keep his ears canted back, lest they take interest.</p>
-<p>Saint John&rsquo;s was lopsided circle nestled at the north edge of a narrow isthmus between two lakes, a marble set over a gap it couldn&rsquo;t hope to pass through. It would be easy enough for Dee to essentially walk straight north to his apartments along the road that bisected the campus, but he preferred to put off walking along a road as long as possible.</p>
+<p>Saint John&rsquo;s Seminary was lopsided circle nestled at the north edge of a narrow isthmus between two lakes, a marble set over a gap it couldn&rsquo;t hope to pass through. It would be easy enough for Dee to essentially walk straight north to his apartments along the road that bisected the campus, but he preferred to put off walking along a road as long as possible.</p>
 <p>Instead, he headed east from the library, walking bowered sidewalks for as long as he could. Past the utilities building, past the bookstore, until he hit the quad. Only then did he turn north, walking through close-cut grass instead of long the sidewalks.</p>
 <p>Here, at last, he could look up and see the stars.</p>
 <p>His steps were slow, contemplative. It wasn&rsquo;t a meander; his walk still had purpose. Instead, it was a putting-off of the inevitable. The inevitable time when he would rejoin walking along the road. The inevitable moment of stepping into his dimly-lit apartment. A delaying of engaging with the real, physical world as long as possible.</p>