The Distant Threshold
I woke with the taste of copper and old dust in my mouth, the lingering sensation of a dream where I had been buried up to my neck in the black, wet earth of the cellar, watching the light above me narrow into a single, unblinking eye. The room was dim, the gray morning light of the midlands filtering through the heavy velvet curtains that had not been drawn in a week, illuminating the dust...
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