The Pale Banner
The thing about silence, if you live long enough to see the century turn, is that it does not behave like a vacuum but like a weight, a physical pressure that settles into the marrow and squeezes the air out of the lungs until breathing becomes a deliberate, laborious act of defiance against the encroaching quiet. Elara stood at the edge of the Appalachian ridge where the pine forests gave way...
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