The Golden Harbor

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2026-08-20 17:32:19 -

The Golden Harbor

You wake with the taste of copper and rot on your tongue. The air in the apartment is thick, wet, smelling of damp wool and the sweet, cloying decay of lilies that have been left too long in a vase. It is London. It is always London in these dreams, a city that does not sleep but merely holds its breath. You are Margaret, or at least, you feel the weight of that name in your chest, a stone...

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