The Pale Banner
In the dream, the house breathed. It was not the house of his birth, nor the damp, stone-walled cottage he had left behind in the village where the river turned black with silt and silence. It was a structure of impossible geometry, a white monolith rising from a field of ash that stretched to a horizon devoid of stars. The walls were thin as paper, yet they held the weight of a sky that did...
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