The Faded River
Mara stood at the edge of the embankment where the river had once run wide and brown, now reduced to a sullen, silty trickle that whispered against the exposed roots of the willows, a sound like dry leaves skittering across a wooden floor. The water was not merely gone; it was absent in a way that felt like a theft, a slow, quiet erasure of the landscape’s memory, leaving behind a scar of...
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