The Wistful Mountain

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2026-08-24 18:56:07 -

The heavy crystal shard, cold and jagged as a splinter of ice, rested in my palm, its facets catching the dim light of the sanitarium window, refracting it into a dozen fractured, trembling lines that seemed to cut the very air. I sat there, in the high-backed chair that smelled of lavender and stale dust, listening to the rhythmic, mechanical thrum of the ventilation system that pumped the...

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