The Faded Root
The dust in the archive room does not settle; it hangs in the air like a suspended breath, a thick, grey fog that coats the back of your throat and settles into the creases of your hands. You are not the man you were when you first took this post, a lowly clerk in the municipal records office of Ashford, a town that seems to exist only in the peripheral vision of the world. You are older now,...
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