The Distant Whispers

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 14:39:37 -

The train left at four. Silas stood on the platform. The air smelled of coal dust and wet wool. He adjusted his cap. The brim was stiff. It had been stiff for years. His hands shook. He hid them in his pockets. The leather of the gloves was cracked. He could feel the cold seeping through. He was leaving the house. He was leaving the town. He was leaving the life that had calcified around him...

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