The Wistful Letter

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 05:42:25 -

The rain did not fall so much as it was thrown, a cold, gritty sleet that stung the exposed skin of my face and slicked the cobblestones of the old village with a black, treacherous sheen. I pulled the wool coat tighter around my shoulders, the fabric heavy and damp, clinging to me like a second skin that refused to peel away. It was a fine coat, once. The label, now fraying, read *Blackwood &...

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