With tectonic slowness, frozen fog rolls off the heavy, oak door. Nopony is there to watch it do so, but nopony's been there for many years and that hasn't stopped it yet.

Today something is different. A crack, unobserved, obviously, but there nevertheless, has opened in the door.

No. Not a crack, but an opening. Not a fault of architecture, but a deliberate opening. The ice was slowly melting, and as it did so it released whispers which had gone unheard for years.

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