The Wistful Saga

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2026-08-25 19:11:42 -

The Wistful Saga

The cypress swamps of the southern deck stretched out under the artificial sun, a tea-colored expanse of engineered wetlands that smelled of rot and ozone, where the wind from the outer hulls whistled through the skeletal branches with a sound like tearing metal, and it was there, in the shadow of the hydroponic bays, that I found the first receipt for my own erasure, tucked into the pocket of...

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