The Distant Clue
The dream was always the same, a recurring tapestry woven from the grey wool of his past. He stood in the center of the long hall of the estate, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and dried lavender. In his hands, he held the heavy coat. It was not merely a garment; it was an extension of his own skin, a second body that had grown around him over decades. The wool was coarse, the color...
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