The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-21 11:27:07 -

I woke with the taste of copper and old blood on my tongue, a metallic tang that coated the roof of my mouth like a persistent, rusty film. My left hand was heavy, pinned beneath the weight of my own body, and when I finally lifted it, the fingers were curled tight around a smooth, white stone. I had no memory of picking it up, but the sensation of its cool, unyielding surface against my palm...

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