The Wistful Asylum

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2026-08-18 13:25:31 -

The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed against the slate roof of the house, a relentless, rhythmic pounding that seemed to seep into the very bones of the walls. I sat in the study, the only room in the manor that still felt warm, though the heating had been off for weeks. On the desk before me lay the journal, its leather cover cracked and faded, its pages dense with a handwriting...

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