The Distant Summer

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 00:18:05 -

The dream was always the same. It was a room with no doors. The walls were white, sterile, humming with a low electrical frequency that made his teeth ache. In the center of the room sat a chair. Not a throne. Not a throne of gold or iron. Just a chair. Wooden. Worn. The seat was concave, carved deep by years of sitting. The backrest was smooth, polished by the backs of thousands of people who...

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