The Distant Summer

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2026-08-17 08:57:00 -

The oak tree in the courtyard died on a Tuesday. It did not fall in a storm, nor did it rot from the roots up. It simply ceased to be alive. One morning, the leaves were brown and brittle, hanging like dried parchment on branches that had turned the color of old bone. Elias stood before it, his hands trembling in the cold air, and felt the first fracture in his mind. He had spent thirty years...

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