The Distant Legend
Dreams of the wall. It stood not as stone or mortar, but as a grid of static, a humming blue light that swallowed the horizon. In the dream, Marcus stood before it. His hands were bound by red tape, the kind used to seal boxes in the county storage. He tried to speak, but his mouth was full of dry leaves. Behind him, the house breathed. It expanded and contracted with the rhythm of a sleeping...
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