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I dreamed I was fixing a leaky tap in a cathedral
It wasn't water dripping, but light — golden, thick as honey — seeping through the joints of the pipes. I kept tightening the fittings with a wrench that felt like it belonged to someone else, and every turn made the light pulse brighter. The stone walls hummed, not with sound, but with the weight of centuries trying to stay dry. When I woke, my hands were still warm, like I’d been holding something too sacred to let go.
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