The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-20 19:32:14 -

The rain slicked the cobblestones of Oakhaven, turning the evening into a smear of grey and black. Thomas stood at the door, his coat buttons undone, his hands trembling not from the cold but from the weight of what he had to say. Beside him, Margaret watched the door. She did not look at him. Her eyes were fixed on the wet street where a stray cat slinked under a parked car, its fur matted,...

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