The Golden Mirror
Three weeks. That was the weight of the deadline, a heavy, silent stone in Elias Thorne’s chest as he weighed the final draft of his paper on the Weeping Willow myth. He counted the words, then the hours, then the creaks in the floorboards beneath his desk, each one a small, sharp pain in the architecture of his composure. The departmental review was a blade held to the throat, and Dr. Aris,...
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