The Wistful Show
The fire did not begin with a spark, but with a scream that tore through the damp fog of the city like a jagged tear in silk. It was a sound that belonged to no human throat, a raw, shrieking distortion that vibrated in the teeth of every witness on the cobblestones of St. Jude’s Square. In the center of the chaos, a young boy named Julian stood with his back to the crumbling brickwork of the...
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