The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-19 22:57:11 -

The Pale Meridian

The train cut through the grey morning. It moved with a heavy, rhythmic thud. The wheels screamed against the iron rails. Margaret Holloway sat by the window. Her reflection stared back. It was pale. It was thin. She held a leather-bound book in her lap. The spine was cracked. The pages were stained with old coffee. She did not open it. She only held it. It was a talisman. It was a shield....

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