The Wistful Mountain
You stand at the gate. The stone is cold against your palm. It is a cold that does not stop at the skin. It goes deeper. It settles in the bone. You are leaving. You are always leaving. This is the nature of the path. The path is a boundary. It separates the inside from the outside. You are on the inside. You will be on the outside. There is no third place. The air smells of damp earth and old...
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