The Distant Summer
You leave the house at dawn. The fog is thick. It tastes of iron. You do not look back. The door slams. It echoes in the empty hall. You are a scholar. You have studied the old texts. You know what the mist does. You know it takes. You walk down the gravel path. The stones are wet. Your boots sink. You feel the weight of the years. You feel the weight of the words. Your brother waits by the...
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