The Wistful Mountain

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2026-08-18 01:17:21 -

The house of the Ashworths stood on the hill like a stone that had been spat out by the earth, a stubborn, gray thing that refused to yield to the creeping ivy or the slow, suffocating embrace of the industrial smog that hung over the valley below. It was a place of polished mahogany and dust motes dancing in shafts of pale, winter light, a sanctuary of old money that had long since lost its...

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