The Pale Bonsai
The cathedral is not a building but a wound in the sky, a vertical gash of stone and light that has been bleeding into the city for three centuries, and you stand at its threshold, not as a visitor but as a structural component, your bones aligning with the flying buttresses, your breath synchronizing with the slow, geological exhalation of the masonry. You are the Archivist, the Keeper of the...
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