The Wistful Letter

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2026-08-20 12:51:13 -

The candle died. The wick hissed, a final, sharp exhalation. Then silence. Not empty silence. Heavy. Wet. The air in the cell tasted of damp stone and old iron. I sat in the dark. My hands were bound. The rope bit into my wrists. It burned. A cool, white moonlight pierced the barred window. It fell on the floor. It fell on me. I was alone. Or so I thought. The stone was cold. It leached the...

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