The Wistful Letter

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2026-08-18 10:02:54 -

The coat hung in the window, not on a hook, but suspended by a wire that had been pulled taut across the glass, a thin silver vein in the dark pane. It was a garment of such specific, terrible weight that it seemed to pull the very air in the room down with it, a gravity of its own making. Margaret stood before it, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her dressing gown, the wool chafing...

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