The Faded Root

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 09:13:22 -

The Faded Root

The train station in Harrowgate smelled of wet wool, stale tobacco, and the metallic tang of impending rain. I stood on the platform, my hands clasped behind my back, watching the last of the commuters disembark into the grey afternoon. My brother, Thomas, was waiting for me. He had not changed in the thirty years since we were children, though the years had carved deep valleys into his face...

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