The Distant Summer

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2026-08-22 16:26:50 -

The dream was always the same, a recurring nightmare of calcium and silence where Elias’s chisel, cold and heavy, turned into a fragment of his own ribcage, splintering against the grey face of the stone. He woke in the narrow cot in the attic of the mill, the mist pressing against the windowpanes like a living thing, his hands trembling not from cold but from the sheer, visceral weight of the...

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