The Distant Legend
The mirror is cracked. A spiderweb of fractures radiates from the left eye. You do not look at it. You look at the water. The water is cold. You are Margaret. You are the hand. The hand is shaking. The palace is silent. The stones breathe. They are old. They are tired. They know what you did. They do not care. You stand before the window. The glass is thick. Outside, the garden is dead. The...
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