The Distant Legend
The letter lies on the table, its seal unbroken, the ink already fading in the dim light of the attic. You remember the day it arrived, though the date is blurred now, lost in the haze of years. It was a Tuesday. The rain was hammering against the stained glass of the church window, turning the afternoon into a bruised purple. You were sitting with your hands folded, waiting for the world to...
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