The Golden Echoes
The ice did not merely form on the lake; it invaded the room, a creeping, silent army that turned the air into something sharp and unbreathable, starting at the windowpanes and pushing inward with the slow, deliberate patience of a thing that had all the time in the world and none of the mercy, so that by the time I woke, the bed was frozen to the floor and the sheets were stiff as canvas, and...
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