The Distant Ghost

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 23:26:44 -

The Distant Ghost

The rain did not fall; it hung in the air, a suspended grey fog that tasted of iron and old paper. I stood at the edge of the platform, watching the steam train hiss and shudder into the station, its iron belly slick with condensation. Beside me, the leather satchel was heavy. It contained the only thing that mattered: the vial of distilled memory, a substance so pure it looked like liquid...

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