The Wistful Voyage

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2026-08-20 02:07:49 -

I dreamt of teeth. Not just mine, but everyone’s in the village. They fell out in the mud, white and cold, like pebbles. I woke with the taste of copper in my mouth. The air in the room was thick. It smelled of damp wool and old paper. I am a scholar. Or I was. Now I am just a man who cannot stop counting the cracks in the plaster. The town is Alderwick. It sits in a valley where the fog never...

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