The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-22 05:55:34 -

The hall was thick with the scent of roasted meat and stale tobacco. You sat at the edge of the long oak table, your fingers tracing the grain of the wood. It felt rough, like sandpaper against your skin. The air was heavy. It pressed against your eardrums. You felt small. The chandelier above cast a golden haze over the faces of the guests. They were laughing. The sound was sharp. It cut...

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