PREVIEW
... in his dreams, Oscar wandered down the fields of grains, the golden heads swaying about from the breeze and glittering like a treasure trove under the two suns. But a dark wind breezed over, and all the shimmering heads of grain bowed before it, their very bodies visibly withering into dried husks. The path underneath him aged, unpaved with unevenly growing weeds, persistent and cracking into the few cobblestones.
Over the hill, the decay spread to the small house, his old home, his chi ...
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