The Faded Sutra
The rain had been falling for three days, a relentless, gray curtain that blurred the edges of the world until the house itself seemed to be dissolving into the wet earth, and you stood in the center of the library, your fingers trembling as they brushed the spine of the leather-bound volume, feeling the grit of dust and decay beneath your nails, a tactile reminder of the slow, inevitable...
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