The Wistful Show

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2026-08-22 00:13:45 -

The Wistful Show

The rain had not stopped for three days. It was a cold, persistent drizzle that seeped into the bones and turned the road into a slick ribbon of mud and grey stone. I walked with my rifle slung low, the weight of it a familiar anchor against my hip. My name was Thomas, and I was a man who had spent the last decade keeping order in a world that no longer remembered what order meant. The trees on...

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