The Distant Journey
The rain fell in a relentless, grey sheet against the window of the stationmaster’s office, blurring the world outside into a smear of iron and mud. Thomas Whitmore sat in the chair that had once belonged to his father, the leather cracked and pale as old bone. On the desk before him lay the letter, its edges soft and worn from being read too many times. It was not a letter of love, nor of...
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