Broken Airstream

Its was a foggy night and the trees were twisting regretfully when a cold, sharp, slice of air cut against my cheek. Some type of miasmic magic was at work and I became increasingly ill at the scent of it. Dread rolled over me as I shuffled through memories to pinpoint what accursed malady could this possibly be. The pebbles on the path started to wobble in my mind and I became increasingly scattered. A vision of a horse-faced man appeared; stripped of flesh and long as years, when suddenly my very being was made ragged and perforated as the miasmic airstream rent though with full force. The turbulent air flapped through my atoms and I was no more.

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