The Distant Whispers

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2026-08-17 14:07:31 -

The wind bit. It cut through the wool of my cloak, a thin, sharp blade that never dulled. I walked. The road was grey. The sky was lower. I had no name. Or rather, I had a name, but the villagers did not know it. They knew me as the Hollow Man. They knew me as the thing that ate the letters. I was not a thing. I was a man. I was a shadow. I walked toward the mill. The mill stood on the hill. It...

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