The Distant Nightmare
The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a gray curtain drawn tight against the high, soot-stained windows of the mill. You stood in the center of the floor, where the looms had been silent for three days. The silence was heavy. It pressed against your eardrums like deep water. You were not human. You had never been human, not truly. The mirror in the vestry hall showed a face that was almost...
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