The Golden Harbor

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 14:03:15 -

The Golden Harbor

The fog does not lift. It settles. It presses against the glass like a living thing, a white wall of damp that erodes the world until only the immediate, the tactile, remains. I wake with the taste of salt on my tongue, the weight of the dream still heavy in my limbs. The pilings of the Golden Harbor are rotting again in my sleep, black wood weeping sap that smells of iron and old blood. I am...

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