The Pale Shadows
The dream arrives not as a vision but as a weight, a heavy, wet cloak of grey fog that settles over the ridge where you have been standing since dawn, and in this dream you are not the Captain you are in the waking world, but the fence post, the iron gate, the boundary line that separates the cultivated field from the wild, untamed thicket beyond, and you feel the rain hitting your face with...
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