The Wistful Mirror

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2026-08-20 16:08:06 -

The rain hit the windshield in hard, diagonal sheets. Arthur did not blink. He kept his hands at ten and two on the wheel. The car was a black sedan, old and stiff, smelling of wet wool and stale coffee. It moved slowly down the long gravel drive. The trees on either side were bare skeletons against a gray sky. They stood like silent judges. The house loomed ahead. It was large. It was white....

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