The Distant Ghost
The train rattled over the iron bridge, a long, shuddering exhalation of steam and rust, carrying you back to the village that had once known your name and now only knew your absence. You stood at the window, watching the fields blur into a gray smear of mud and bare branches. The air inside the carriage was thick, stale with the scent of wet wool and old paper, a suffocating blanket that...
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