The Wistful Voyage

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 16:42:01 -

The train leaves before you can say goodbye. That is the first thing the mist tells you. It does not whisper. It roars, a white beast of steam and iron, swallowing the platform whole. You stand there, your coat buttoned to the chin, holding a bag that feels heavier than your body. The air tastes of coal smoke and wet wool. It is November in the mill town of Oakhaven, and the cold has teeth. You...

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