The Wistful Petal
The train that carried you from the industrial sprawl of the northern cities to the isolated, fog-drenched coast was not merely a vehicle for transit but a mechanism of erasure, a long, rattling iron worm that swallowed the daylight and exhaled it in gray, stale breaths of coal smoke and damp wool. You sat in the corner of the third-class carriage, your coat buttoned to the chin, your hands...
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