The Wistful Skyline
The train that carried me north toward the capital was a rattling, soot-stained thing, a mechanical beast that groaned against the iron tracks like a man in his final, agonizing breath, and I sat in the corner of the compartment with my back pressed hard against the vibrating window, watching the flat, gray fields of the countryside slide past in a blur of indistinct shapes, feeling the hum of...
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