The Wistful Voyage

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2026-08-19 05:45:19 -

The rain against the windowpane of the study had become a rhythmic, ceaseless drumming, a sound that Margaret Holloway had long since ceased to hear as noise and had instead come to recognize as the texture of her own remaining days. She sat in the high-backed chair that had belonged to her father, the leather worn smooth and cracked at the elbows where generations of men had leaned in...

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