The Faded Photograph

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2026-08-21 19:57:33 -

The train did not run on tracks of iron, but on a current of suspended grey mist that hummed against the glass with a frequency I felt in my teeth. I sat in the corner of the carriage, my back pressed against the cold plastic, watching the world dissolve into a thick, opaque fog outside. There were no other passengers. The empty seats across from me looked like open mouths, silent and...

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