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Weekly Contest #312
The first time I met Ash, they were sitting on the edge of the world. At least, that’s what it looked like—one foot dangling over the dark drop, the other curled beneath them, eyes scanning the horizon with a kind of stillness that felt both alive and entirely mechanical. The digital sun—if that’s what you’d call it—hung low, casting everything in fractured amber light, like someone had smashed reality into glass and glued the pieces back wrong. “You’re late,” Ash said without looking at me. Their voice was steady, but I thought I heard… som...
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