The Faded Masquerade
The coat is heavy. It is a thing of thick wool and dark dye, smelling of damp earth and old smoke. You wear it always. It is not just clothing. It is your skin. It is your history. You are a traveler in a town that has no name on the map. The houses are stone, gray and silent. The people watch you from behind glass panes. They see the coat. They see the weight of it. They do not see you. You...
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