The Faded Paradox
The fire took the roof of the mill while I was still counting the crows, a sound like tearing canvas that swallowed the silence whole, and in that instant of smoke and falling timber I understood with a clarity that felt like a blade against my throat that I was not a man but a thing, a creature of root and rot that had mistaken itself for flesh, and the scream that tore from my mouth was not...
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