The Distant Journey

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2026-08-20 11:11:18 -

The bread rose in the dark. It was a slow, heavy swelling, a pale mound that seemed to breathe against the cold air of the cellar. Thomas woke before dawn. His body knew the hour even if his mind did not. He was sixty years old, and his knees complained with the stiffness of old hinges. He dressed in the blue of the night. He put on his boots. He went downstairs. The cellar was small. The walls...

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