The Distant Legend
The wool had been white once. Now it was the color of old bone, stiff with dried lye and the gray dust of the mill. It hung on a wooden peg in the corner of the dormitory, a shapeless thing that no longer held the memory of a human form. Elias did not look at it. He looked at the floorboards. They were warped, dark with age, and they held the weight of the institution in a silent, grinding way....
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