The Distant Ghost

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 04:26:44 -

The Distant Ghost

The train cut through the fog like a knife through cold meat. Silas Vance adjusted his coat. The wool was damp. He hated the damp. It clung to the skin. It smelled of rot and wet stone. He leaned against the window. His hand was a wreck. The fingers were thick. The knuckles swollen. He could not feel the cold. He could not feel the vibration of the tracks. That was the problem. The nerves were...

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