The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-18 03:25:38 -

The bread was stale. It sat on the table like a grey stone. Elara looked at it. She did not touch it. The room was small. The walls pressed in. They were made of wood. Old wood. It smelled of rot. And of fear. Outside, the wind howled. It sounded like a beast. It sounded like a man. Elara was ten years old. Her hands were still. Her mother stood by the door. Her back was turned. She held a...

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