The Distant Nightmare
The train shuddered as it cleared the last tunnel, the iron beast exhaling a plume of white steam that hung in the cold morning air like a ghost refusing to dissipate. I sat in the corner of the second-class carriage, my hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long since gone cold. The glass was cracked near the rim, a small fracture I had noticed years ago and never repaired, much like the...
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