The Distant Machine

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2026-08-19 18:15:25 -

The letter was not sealed with wax, for we had run out of such frivolities, but it was bound tight with a strip of leather that smelled of the damp earth where we had dug our last trench. You hold it now, I imagine, in your gloved hands, the parchment softening under the heat of your palms, while the wind outside the watchtower howls with a voice that sounds terribly like the one I used to use...

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