The Faded Root
The separation from the living world did not occur with a tear in the fabric of reality, but rather with a slow, sedimenting drift, as if you had been lowered into a deep, cold bath that was not quite water, but a suspension of time itself, thick and viscous and tasting of iron and old paper. You are Margaret, though here, in this place that exists on the periphery of human comprehension, the...
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