The Faded Road
The dream is a corridor of endless mirrors, each pane warped by heat, distorting your reflection into a smudge of gray wool and tired eyes. You are standing still, but the glass ripples, and in the ripples, you see your brother, Julian, younger, his face unlined by the years of silence that have since settled between you like silt in a riverbed. He is wearing the tunic. It is the same tunic,...
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