The Distant Whispers

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-19 08:47:20 -

The tremor began in the left hand. Not a spasm. A vibration. Like a tuning fork struck against bone. I stood before the mirror. The glass was clean. The reflection was not. The fingers twitched. I closed them. They opened. The skin on my palms was rough. Calloused. The texture of a craftsman. Not a merchant. But I had been a merchant for forty years. The hands belonged to the man I used to be....

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