The Distant Promise
The heavy oak door groaned as you pushed it open, the sound a low, mournful moan that seemed to vibrate in the very marrow of your bones, signaling the end of an era that had stretched on far longer than any of you had dared to hope for, and as you stepped out onto the overgrown path, the autumn wind caught your hair, cold and sharp, stripping away the last of the illusions you had clung to...
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