The Faded Chronicle

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-17 19:30:13 -

The rain had stopped, but the air still tasted of wet iron and old coal smoke. I stood by the window of the station master’s office, watching the tracks cut through the gray valley like a scar that would not heal. My uniform was dry, though the rest of me was not. The wool of my tunic clung to my back, heavy and cold. I checked my watch. It was three minutes past the appointed hour. There was...

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