The Wistful Voyage

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2026-08-17 13:05:13 -

The rain fell hard. It beat against the window. We were walking. I walked fast. Thomas walked slow. He held his cane. The wood was old. It was worn smooth. He looked at me. His eyes were gray. Like the sky. "Keep up," he said. I did not stop. My heart beat fast. It was a drum. It was a trap. I was seven. I was small. Thomas was tall. He was my uncle. He was my master. We reached the house. It...

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