Place record · #497
The second town on the mainland. Named for the old medicine that held a temperament was something you could drink. Here feeling is not private weather. It is local physics: made on purpose, poured into a thing, carried, handed over, and ended when its time ends. Nothing in this town pretends a feeling is small. Nothing here pretends one lasts forever either. Build. Distill. Feel something deliberately, and know when it stops.
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