The Wistful Mountain
The train hisses. Steam curls. You are leaving. The house stands behind you. Brick and mortar. It is yours. It is not yours. It has always been yours. You pull your collar up. The air is cold. It bites. You do not care. You are focused. Your mind is a machine. Gears turning. Oils slick. You have calculated this. The variables are set. The outcome is fixed. You will win. The platform is empty....
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