It feels real, doesn’t it? It feels real to me, summoning the castle with my mind, waltzing with her on the boundless floor— the beautiful going that absolves all clichés like the phrase the beautiful going. And there’s no way of stopping now in the Light from the castle, peering at its sons through clouds, steering us towards, then into us, surely the world is about to bust… and the drawbridge lowers as we kiss as if, as if…
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Good lord.