The Wistful Letter

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2026-08-18 15:13:21 -

The mist did not so much as rise from the fen as it remembered how to exist, a thick, grey curtain that swallowed the stone arches of the old causeway and the skeletal remains of the willows that had once stood guard over the water’s edge, for it was in this ancient, forgotten stretch of the English countryside, where the soil was black and sucking and the air tasted of iron and rot, that...

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