The Distant Legend
You are eating the wrong kind of silence, Thomas. Do you hear how it cracks against your teeth? It is not the silence of the pantry, nor the hush of the archive, but the sharp, brittle fracture of a world that has decided to stop speaking to you. You are holding a porcelain cup, the glaze thin as a lie, and inside it, the tea has turned to a dark, viscous sludge, a mirror that refuses to...
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