The Wistful Crossroads

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 05:54:22 -

The train moves through the dark. It is a long, narrow throat of steel and velvet. You sit by the window. The glass is cold against your cheek. You wear the coat. It is your skin. It is your armor. It is old. The wool has thinned. The elbows are bald. The buttons are loose. They rattle when you shift. You do not fix them. You never fix them. They are the sound of your time. The station is...

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