The Golden Echoes
The morning light did not so much enter the kitchen as it pooled, a thick, viscous gold that settled into the cracks of the linoleum floor and warmed the dust motes dancing in the stagnant air, and it was there, in that suspended, honeyed stillness, that Elara noticed the sound, a low, resonant thrumming that seemed to emanate not from the walls or the earth but from the very marrow of her own...
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