The Wistful Show

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2026-08-17 12:13:16 -

The Wistful Show

The gate was open. That was the first thing I saw when the mist cleared, and it was the last thing I could believe. We had walked for what felt like days, maybe weeks, through a landscape that had no name and no north, our boots sinking into soil that was warm to the touch, like the skin of a sleeping animal. I was twelve then. Or maybe thirteen. Time didn’t move in straight lines here; it...

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