The Distant Affair
The mist clings to the valley like a burial shroud, damp and cold against the back of your neck, and you stand at the threshold of the stone circle, your breath visible in the grey air as white, trembling ghosts. You are twelve years old, though the weight in your chest feels ancient, a heavy stone that has been rolling down a long, dark throat for years. In your hand, you clutch the bundle of...
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