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(Untitled)
Time has little meaning here, though your body back home may disagree.
Dream.
A forest.
A forest of the oldest sort, thick with brambles, trees snarled with centuries of life. It stretches for miles, many of them very dark, because the trees grow so close that it is hard to see. From a high vantage point, on one of the hills of the forest, one ( Read more... )