The Wistful Saga
The frost bites deep into the stone. It bites into your skin. You are cold. You are so cold. The cellar is dark. The dark is thick. It has weight. It presses against your eyes. You are Margaret. You are old. Your joints ache. The ache is a fire. It burns slow. It burns bright. You hold the bottle. The glass is thick. It is heavy. It hums. A low hum. A deep hum. The hum vibrates in your teeth....
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