The Wistful Voyage

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2026-08-18 01:48:31 -

The wind did not howl. It whispered. A dry, rasping sound against the corrugated metal roof of the transport. Elias sat on the bench, his back against the cold iron. He was a man of forty winters, though his face wore the lines of a century. The uniform was ill-fitting, a testament to the hollowness that had settled into his frame over the last few weeks. Outside, the highway unspooled into the...

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