The Distant Nightmare
The road out of the valley was not so much a path as it was a scar, a jagged line of grey gravel and loose shale that cut through the dense, unyielding green of the forest, and I walked it with a burden that was not merely in my hands but in the marrow of my bones, a weight that pressed down on my chest and squeezed the air from my lungs until I could feel the rhythm of my own heartbeat as a...
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