The Distant Legend

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2026-08-19 22:47:24 -

The iron gate groaned in the wind, a low, mournful sound that seemed to come from the earth itself, shaking the dust from the ancient oaks that lined the perimeter of the Blackwood Correctional Facility. I stood by the high window, my hands wrapped around a mug of cold tea, watching the leaves swirl in the grey November sky. The oaks were old, older than the prison, older than the men who...

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