The Golden Mirror

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2026-08-20 02:56:37 -

The Golden Mirror

The rain did not fall. It hung in the air, a fine, grey mist that tasted of iron and old paper. Margaret stood in the center of the room, her boots sinking slightly into the floor. The floor was not wood. It was moss. Deep, wet, green moss that covered every surface, from the baseboards to the ceiling. She looked down at her hands. They were clean. They had been clean for three days. Before...

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