The Wistful Crossroads

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 15:19:14 -

You arrive in the city with your hands full of dust. It clings to your skin, a fine gray powder that tastes of iron and old rain. The train has not stopped. It never stops. You are merely a passenger in a moving room, looking out at a blur of gray brick and neon light. You have been here before. You have always been here. The city is a beast that eats time and spits it back out as fog. You...

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