The Distant Journey

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2026-08-20 22:08:48 -

The fog that rolled in from the sea each morning was not merely weather, but a living membrane, a pale, breathing skin that sealed the harbor town of Oakhaven into a sphere of suspended time. It clung to the cobblestones, to the iron railings of the pier, and to the windows of the Magistrate’s house, blurring the world until the boundary between the real and the remembered dissolved into a...

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