The Faded Portrait
The train cuts through the gray, rain-slicked countryside, a steel artery pumping you forward toward the Institute of Advanced Structural Dynamics. You sit in the corner seat, your posture rigid, your eyes fixed on the receding blur of hedgerows and industrial estates. The vibration of the tracks hums in your bones, a low-frequency thrum that mirrors the persistent ache in your lungs. You are...
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