The Faded Alibi

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2026-08-20 22:48:09 -

The Faded Alibi

I dreamt of bread. Not the loaves from the bakery, hard as river stones, but soft, white, yielding things. They dissolved in my mouth before I could chew. I woke with the taste of yeast and ash. It was the smell of the town that morning. Not the usual damp rot of the canal, but something sweet and cloying, like overripe fruit left in a closed room. I went to work. My hands were stiff. They...

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