The Distant Crown
The train rattles through the fog like a skeleton dragging its teeth across the floor of a drowned room, and you sit with your hand resting on the cold brass railing, feeling the vibration of the wheels in your bones, a rhythm that seems to match the frantic, bird-like flutter of your heart. You are not a boy who believes in ghosts, or at least that is what you have told yourself for the last...
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