The Faded River

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2026-08-21 16:46:34 -

The Faded River

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended mist that turned the Scottish Highlands into a watercolor painting left out in the weather. I was running. My lungs burned with the cold, a sharp, metallic taste that coated the back of my throat. I was not running from a man, nor from a beast, but from the weight of a truth that had been slowly poisoning me for thirty years. I am a...

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