The Wistful Voyage

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2026-08-19 12:33:52 -

The tea was still hot, the steam curling in tight, frantic spirals that smelled of camphor and old pennies, and Margot sat with her hands wrapped around the ceramic cup as if it were a lifeline thrown across a chasm of black water, her knuckles white against the glazed surface, listening to the clock in the hallway tick with a mechanical, indifferent heartbeat that seemed to measure the seconds...

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