The Distant Whispers

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2026-08-18 05:37:50 -

The dream was of stone. Cold grey stone. It pressed against his cheek. It smelled of wet earth and old sweat. He was in the basement. The walls were sweating. Condensation ran in slow, thick beads down the plaster. He reached for the door. His hand passed through the wood. It was solid. It was not solid. He woke. The alarm clock on the bedside table ticked. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Calvin sat...

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