The Faded Apartment
The soup had gone cold in the clay pot, a congealed gel of onion and root vegetable that mirrored the stillness of the room. Elara sat by the hearth, her hands wrapped around a mug that had lost its heat hours ago. The fire had died to embers, leaving only a faint, gray pulse of warmth in the center of the grate. Outside, the wind howled through the gaps in the shutters, a sound that seemed to...
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