The Faded Road
The gravel crunched under your boots with a sound like breaking teeth, a dry, brittle noise that seemed to echo too long in the empty air. You did not look back. You knew that if you turned your head, you would see the road behind you dissolving into white fog, the way milk drops into coffee, leaving no trace of the path you had just walked. This was the nature of the place, a stretch of...
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