The Pale Door

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2026-08-21 19:38:21 -

The Pale Door

The separation from my wife, Elara, was not a sudden severing but a slow, tectonic drift, like the continents pulling apart beneath the surface of a still ocean. We had stood at the threshold of our home in the damp, grey village of Oakhaven, a place that seemed to exist in the interstitial spaces of time, where the centuries blurred into a single, indistinct breath. The air tasted of wet stone...

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