The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-22 14:19:47 -

The bread was hard. It was hard as a river stone, dry and crumbly in the teeth, tasting of ash and old smoke. Elara chewed slowly. She did not taste the flavor. She only felt the resistance. It was a small loaf, no larger than a child’s fist. It sat on the rough table, scarred by centuries of cuts and spills. Outside, the wind howled across the moor. It was a sound like a living thing in pain....

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