The Distant Journey
It was the key, or it was the silence, I could not tell which one was heavier in my hand. You are asking why I am here, in the mud, with the water rising around my ankles. I am the ledger keeper. I have been the ledger keeper for twenty years. My father was the keeper before me, until the fire took him, and the mill, and the truth. The village says I am strange. They say I talk to the stones....
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