The Wistful Crossroads

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2026-08-20 23:47:22 -

The rain on the roof of the shop sounded like static, a low hiss that filled the silence of the small town of Oakhaven. You are standing behind the counter, your hands rough and stained with the residue of pine sap and varnish. The wood shavings curl up around your feet, light as ash. You are a craftsman, a man who speaks to trees more than he speaks to people, and in this place, that is...

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