The Wistful Letter
The fire is out. You know this. The ash is cold. The iron grate is black. You sit on the floor. Your back hurts. The stone is cold against your spine. You are in the cellar. The door is locked. You are not alone. Thomas stands by the wall. He holds a lantern. The light is yellow. It shakes. His hands shake. You look at him. He looks at you. There is blood on his sleeve. It is dry. It is brown....
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