The Wistful Saga
The dream began not with light but with the sensation of weight, a dense, gravitational pull that anchored Margaret Holloway to the floor of a room that did not exist in the waking world, a chamber where the air tasted of copper and old rain, and in that suspended moment of pre-consciousness, her left hand was the only thing that felt real, the skin tight and drum-like over the bone, the...
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