The Wistful Mirror

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2026-08-20 09:37:19 -

The cart groaned against the gravel, a sound that seemed to vibrate in the marrow of the old man’s bones. Silas kept his head down, his hands white-knuckled on the reins, while the winter wind stripped the last of the warmth from the air. He was a man who had spent forty years shaping wood into chairs, tables, and beds, and now, in the twilight of his life, he was shaping his own departure. The...

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