The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 19:33:18 -

The rain had stopped, but the air remained heavy, thick with the scent of wet slate and dying leaves. Margaret stood by the window of the cramped office, watching the grey sky press down upon the city like a shroud. She was leaving. Not with a bang, but with a whisper. A quiet, final exhale. The box on her desk held only the barest essentials. A pen. A framed photo of her late mother. A small,...

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