The Distant Temple

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2026-08-20 14:08:52 -

The air in the community center smelled of wet wool and burnt sugar, a cloying, heavy scent that clung to the back of the throat and refused to be swallowed. It was the annual Harvest Gala, a ritual of forced joviality that had become less a celebration and more a triage station for the town’s collective anxiety. Margaret Holloway stood at the edge of the buffet table, her hand hovering over a...

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