The Distant Ghost

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2026-08-20 08:20:24 -

The Distant Ghost

The road did not end. It simply stopped being a road. Walter Vane walked. His boots were leather, thick and brown, now cracked like dry earth. They held his weight. They held his history. Each step was a drumbeat against the silence. The air was thin. It tasted of iron and old snow. He was a merchant of souls, or so the ledger said. No, not souls. Memories. He bought them. He sold them. He kept...

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