The Wistful Mountain

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2026-08-20 14:29:46 -

The iron shackle had bitten into the wrist of the old man, Thomas Bradshaw, before the first snow of that relentless winter settled on the peaks of the Scottish Highlands. I stood at the edge of the precipice, my own hands trembling not from the cold, which had long since penetrated my bones and turned my blood to slush, but from the sheer, crushing weight of the silence that hung between us....

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