The Wistful Saga
The glass shatters. Not loudly. Just a sigh of ice breaking. You watch it. You watch the shards drift down into the dark water of the vat. They do not sink. They float. A constellation of broken promises. "Again," says the man in the corner. His voice is dry. Like dead leaves on stone. You turn. You do not look at the shards. You look at him. His name is Aldous. He wears a coat of gray wool. It...
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