The Wistful Voyage

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2026-08-18 02:53:45 -

The porcelain bird was cracked. It sat on the mantelpiece, its beak split down the middle, a jagged white scar running through the glaze. Arthur stood before it, his hands trembling in his pockets. He had not touched it. He knew he had not touched it. And yet, it was broken. The house smelled of dust and old paper. Rain lashed against the windows of the Victorian manor, a rhythmic drumming that...

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