The Distant Summer

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2026-08-18 06:54:04 -

The crack runs through the glass like a vein of ice. You press your thumb against it. It is cold. You are in the city. It is 1893. The factory smoke hangs low. It smells of sulfur and wet wool. You are Margaret. You are the wife. You are the one who watches. The building is old. It leans. The windows are tall. They are broken. You look out. You see the street. People walk. They do not see you....

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