The coming storm - The Magnus Archives
I don't remember that night in detail. The two most important events in my life, and I have clear memories of neither. I know it was the first storm, the first real storm, I had seen for almost ten years, but nothing else remains in my mind. There are echoes of resignation, I think, almost desperation. That can't be right though. What reason would I have had not to jump? Not to become as I am now? Perhaps I just didn't know the true joy of vertigo.
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