The Faded Chronicle

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2026-08-19 16:33:41 -

I woke in the dark. The dream had a texture. Like wet wool. It clung to my mind. I could feel it. The weight of it. The dampness. I lay still. Breathing. In. Out. The ceiling was white. Stark. I knew I was in the East Wing. The old administrative block. They were tearing it down next month. Concrete. Steel. Rust. The smell of dust. I closed my eyes. I saw the glass. High above. A pane of...

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