The Faded Paradox
The map on the table was cracked down the middle, a jagged scar running through the blue ink of the river, and I stared at it until the lines blurred into a single, indifferent smear of water and land. The cabin was freezing, the wood stove long dead, and the silence was so heavy it felt like a physical weight pressing against my eardrums, a suffocation that had nothing to do with the lack of...
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