The Faded Guest

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2026-08-20 16:53:47 -

The Faded Guest

The ink had begun to bleed into the grain of the oak long before the guests arrived, a slow, dark seepage that Eamon felt in his wrists as much as in the parchment, a physical ache that mirrored the hollowing out of his own days, for he was a man who had spent forty years binding words to paper and now found that the words were binding him to a silence so profound it seemed to have weight and...

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