The Distant Journey

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2026-08-20 16:22:29 -

The letter in your pocket is soft now, worn thin by the friction of your thumb against the paper, a physical map of your anxiety that has smoothed the ink until the words are barely visible, fading into the grain of the cotton. You hold it in your left hand, the knuckles white, while your right hand grips the iron railing of the bridge, the metal cold and biting into your palm, a sharp,...

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