The Wistful Crossroads

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2026-08-20 01:55:52 -

The tower did not stand. It hung. It floated above the grey mud of the valley, a block of black stone suspended in the air by no visible means. It had no door. It had no windows. It was simply there. I stared at it. My breath came in short, sharp bursts. The cold bit into my lungs. I am not a man of words. I am a man of actions. Or I was. Now I am a ghost in my own life. I wear the face of a...

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