The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-21 17:36:52 -

The mud sucked at my boots with a wet, tearing sound. It was the kind of cold that settles in the marrow, a gray, industrial chill that smelled of coal smoke and wet wool. I was pinned against the brick wall of the warehouse, my back throbbing where a fist had just connected. The man in front of me was large, a foreman type with a face like a closed fist, but I had fought bigger. I had fought...

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