The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-19 02:52:34 -

The train hisses, a long, metallic groan that tears the silence of the platform, and you are left standing there, your hand still extended, fingers splayed as if you could physically hold back the wheels, but they do not stop, they never stop, and the smoke from the locomotive billows out to swallow your face, blinding you in a grey haze that smells of coal and wet iron, and in your other hand,...

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