The Faded Quadrant

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2026-08-18 00:15:46 -

The frost had come early this year, a brittle, white lace that seemed to choke the life out of the maples along the riverbank, leaving the town of Oakhaven suspended in a breath it could not quite take. I walked the perimeter of the old mill district, where the cobblestones were slick with ice and the air tasted of iron and woodsmoke. My lungs ached with a dull, persistent pain, a companion...

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