The Golden Farce

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2026-08-19 23:17:16 -

The Golden Farce

The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a gray, suspended breath against the high, arched windows of the Watchtower, blurring the world into a smear of wet slate and dying autumn. I stood in the center of the room, the floorboards cold and unyielding beneath my boots, listening to the tick of the clock that seemed to measure not seconds, but the slow erosion of my own certainty. The air was...

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