The Faded Apartment
Mara dreamed of honey. Not the amber, viscous substance that one might buy in a jar at the market, but a thick, golden light that pooled in the corners of the stone chamber where she lay, dripping from the vaulted ceiling like a slow, sweet rain that refused to solidify. She was seven years old in the dream, small and barefoot, running through the sticky glow that coated her ankles, her hands,...
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