The Faded Apartment
The dream began not with a visual image but with a taste, a cloying, metallic sweetness that coated the tongue and thickened in the throat, the flavor of old blood mixed with crushed lavender and rotting bread, a sensory anchor that dragged the mind backward into the cold, damp cellar where the air hung heavy with the scent of damp wool and the faint, acrid smoke of tallow candles that had been...
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