The Wistful Saga

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2026-08-19 12:39:36 -

The Wistful Saga

The glass had been my life’s work, and now it was my grave. I stood in the center of the foundry, a cathedral of soot and steam, watching the last of the molten silica cool into a dull, black scar on the casting table. The air was thick, heavy with the metallic taste of iron and the sulfurous breath of the furnaces that had breathed their final sighs an hour ago. Outside, the industrial sprawl...

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