The Distant Journey
The mirror in the dressing room did not reflect the man who stood before it, but rather a version of him that had been slowly eroded by the weight of the glass, a spectral figure whose face was a mosaic of shattered reflections, each shard holding a different, contradictory truth about the nature of the man named Arthur Penhaligon, who was not a man at all but a concept of a man, a ghost in the...
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