The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-19 10:03:43 -

The cart rattled over the cobblestones of the old city, a rhythm that had beaten in my bones since I was a boy, and the smell of the incense burned so thickly that it seemed to coat the air in a layer of grey velvet. I was twelve years old, carrying a bundle of cedar and frankincense on my back, and I walked behind Master Aldous, a man whose face was as weathered and indistinguishable as the...

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