The Wistful Show

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2026-08-17 19:18:09 -

The Wistful Show

The bread is still warm. You can feel the heat radiating from the crust against your palm, a dull, persistent ache that mirrors the throb in your temples. It is a loaf of dark rye, dense and heavy, bound in a cloth that smells of lye and old stone. You have carried it since dawn. The town of Oakhaven sits below you on the hill, a sprawl of grey slates and chimneys exhaling ribbons of coal smoke...

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