The Distant Summer

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2026-08-20 14:12:28 -

The dream began with the smell of burnt sugar. It was a thick, cloying scent that coated the back of the throat, sweet and rotten in equal measure. In the dream, the sky was the color of bruised plums, hanging low over the rooftops of Oakhaven. The town lay still, trapped in a twilight that did not belong to any hour of the day. There were no people on the streets. Only the houses, standing...

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