The Pale Meridian
The fog that rolls in from the Atlantic does not merely obscure the coastline of the jagged peninsula where you have made your home; it erases the very concept of the shore, dissolving the hard line between the wet, churning sea and the damp, heather-choked land until the world becomes a singular, breathing entity of grey mist and cold salt. You are walking the perimeter, the same path you have...
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