The Wistful Incense
L1: The auctioneer’s gavel fell with the finality of a closing door, sealing the lot of salvaged slate and copper wire that would keep the dome’s eastern seal intact for another month. The town of Gwaun-y-Gwern was a place of printed streets and recycled hope, where the air tasted of ozone and the cold froze the well water into a solid pillar of blue glass. In the shadow of the automated quarry...
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