The Wistful Crossroads

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2026-08-19 11:57:46 -

The rain did not fall so much as it stood, a grey curtain woven from the breath of the earth, blurring the boundary between the mud of the road and the sky above. I sat alone in the cab of the locomotive, the iron beast shuddering beneath me with a rhythm that felt less like mechanics and more like the slow, dying heartbeat of a giant. My name was Thomas, though the badge on my chest read...

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