The Memory

added blog Literature

2026-06-04 04:08:50 -

The Memory

I The letter arrived on a night when the Mississippi was thick with fog. I was in the parlour of my family's decaying plantation, surrounded by the smell of damp wood and forgotten things, when the messenger handed it to me without a word. It was wrapped in wax the colour of river mud, and sealed with a symbol I did not recognise—a wheel with no spokes. My name was written on it in a hand that...

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