The Faded Root
You hold the brass key in your left hand, the metal warm and slick with the sweat of your palm, and you tell yourself that it is merely a tool, a mechanism of rotation, a thing of pure utility, but your fingers tremble with the specific, vibrating frequency of a string tuned to a note that does not exist in any known musical scale, and you know, with a certainty that feels like a physical blow...
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