The Distant Nightmare
Act I Pietro Ferraro stood in the doorway of his father’s estate, the rain finding every hole in the roof and dripping onto the linoleum with a rhythmic, accusatory persistence that had no end in sight. He had arrived in the interior hill town to secure the property sale, a task mandated by the new bureaucratic order that treated land not as heritage but as a line item to be liquidated, and he...
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