The Pale Tower
You tell yourself that the blue wool sweater is just a sweater, a practical garment against the damp chill of the November air, but you know, with a certainty that settles in your marrow like lead, that it is the only thing keeping you tethered to the world you built before the tower began to breathe, for you are holding it in your hands right now, the fabric worn thin at the elbows, the color...
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