The Wistful Throne

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2026-08-19 19:37:02 -

The rain hit the cobblestones like a hammer. I was bleeding. It was not much. Just a thin line down my cheek. I wiped it with my thumb. The red smeared. I looked at my hand. I was alive. The air smelled of iron and wet wool. My coat was soaked. It clung to my back. It was heavy. It was always heavy. I pulled it tighter. I was not cold. I was numb. I stood in the square. The market was empty....

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