The Distant Whispers
You have lived for forty years within the stone belly of the monastery, a place where the air tastes of damp moss and old incense, where the silence is not an absence of sound but a heavy, tangible presence that presses against the eardrums. The walls are thick, built by hands long turned to dust, and they do not merely enclose you; they define the very shape of your thoughts, constraining your...
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