The Pale Tower

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2026-08-22 04:25:39 -

The Pale Tower

The wool is fraying at the edges, a slow unraveling that mirrors the tectonic shift in the architecture of your mind, and you stand in the center of the living room, the suburban afternoon light cutting sharp and indifferent through the blinds, gripping Clara’s scarf until the fibers bite into your palms. You are fifty-two, retired, and the clock on the mantel ticks with a metronomic precision...

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