The Wistful Mountain

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2026-08-17 18:16:04 -

The gate closes behind you with a sound like a bone breaking, soft and final. You stand in the courtyard of the estate, the air thick with the scent of damp limestone and crushed thyme. It is not a time you can place. The clocks here do not tick; they only hang, silent as dead birds, their faces obscured by dust. You are leaving, though you do not know where you are going. You only know that...

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