The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-17 12:32:24 -

The train smelled of ozone and old wool. I pressed my forehead against the cold glass. Outside, the rain blurred the world into a smear of gray. I was going to see him. Or rather, I was going to find him. My coat was heavy. It weighed forty pounds. It had to. I checked the zipper. I checked the seams. I checked the lining. It was a military surplus jacket. Olive drab. Heavy canvas. It had...

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