"There was the raven, dusty and moth-eaten now, that was supposed to have inspired one of the writer's most celebrated works. Busloads of tourists and prospective students came throughout the year to look through the glass into that room and at its lifeless objects. No matter that the writer studied at the university more than a hundred years ago and stuck around for less than a semester, during which he spent most of his time drinking and gambling: his room remains on display, in a glass case, as it were, and he himself has his illustrious name crowning in perpetuity the long roster of distinguished men of letters to have sought wisdom and truth and light in the halls of the Academical Village."Genre: short storyWords: 1,966