The Distant Affair

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2026-08-19 23:32:43 -

The ink on the ledger was still wet, glistening like a bruise under the tallow light, when I finally stopped my hand. I had been calculating the yield for the autumn barley, a task that required a precision of arithmetic so cold it could freeze the blood in the veins, yet my mind was elsewhere, drifting toward the scent of damp earth and the heavy, sweet decay of the orchard beyond the stone...

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