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Fractured Melody

Page 6

by Christine Williamson


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  On the last day of the third world’s third age a mountain appeared in the sky. That same evening every living creature within a hundred miles of its shadow was borne to the ground by a nameless, soul-consuming grief and a gut-wrenching sorrow that rose with the moon and vanished with the fading twilight of the rising sun.

  The next morning, exactly a day after its arrival, the mountain disappeared.

  No one remembered that it had come.

  The End

 

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