The Faded Portrait

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 14:11:23 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a fine, grey mist that clung to the wool of Marguerite’s coat and the iron lattice of the station platform, turning the world into a watercolor left too long in a puddle. She stood there, holding the hand of her husband, Julian, who was already half a ghost in the fog, his silhouette dissolving into the churning steam of the departing...

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