The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-20 20:19:25 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a grey curtain drawn tight against the windowpane. I stood by the door, my hand on the cold brass knob. Outside, the garden was a blur of wet leaves and dark soil. It had been three days since Arthur left. Three days of silence so thick it tasted of iron. He had not looked back. He had simply walked down the gravel path, his coat heavy with...

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