The Golden Downtown
It was the jaw, always the jaw, that broke in the dream, shattering with a sound like a plate dropped on tile, and Elara woke with her teeth clenched so tightly the enamel ached, the low-frequency hum already vibrating in the walls of the house, a sound that felt less like noise and more like a pressure against her eardrums. She was thirty-two, and the house in the old district, with its...
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