The Golden Downtown
The dream was a garden of glass. It stretched out in a flat, impossible plane, every petal a shard of cut crystal, reflecting a sun that did not exist, burning with a cold, white light that seeped through Elara’s eyelids even in her sleep. She stood in the center of it, her feet sinking into the soil which was made of crushed, silent whispers, and she knew, with the absolute, unshakeable...
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