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The sigh he heaved displaced some of the dust in the otherwise unperturbed room – untouched by time and locked in its own little bubble in space.

He wondered if even the spirits of the forest dared to encroach the space around the room – an eerie sadness framing the beautifully set furniture lying forever in wait for its true owner to come claim it. For them to walk in and turn it into the paradise it was built to encase.

Continue reading “Chapter 9 – Long burns the Candle Whose Wick is Trimmed”