The Wistful Voyage
The engine of the *Hesperus* groaned, a low, tectonic rumble that I felt in the marrow of my shins before it ever reached my ears, a vibration that had become so intrinsic to my being over the last forty years that I could no longer distinguish the ship’s heartbeat from my own. We were moving through a fog so thick it seemed to possess weight, a gray, wet curtain that swallowed the horizon and...
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