The Wistful Show
The train screamed through the valley, a steel beast clawing at the dark, and I held my breath as the carriage shuddered under the weight of our collective silence. We were three days out of the capital, the air thick with coal smoke and the metallic taste of fear, and I sat in the corner of the compartment, my knees drawn up to my chest, watching the windows blur into streaks of black and...
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