The Pale Mist

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2026-08-22 06:11:00 -

The Pale Mist

The train from London to Edinburgh was a long, metallic breath, exhaling the grey of the Scottish lowlands into the windows. Margaret sat by the glass, her reflection a ghostly overlay on the passing landscape, a woman who seemed to be traveling through her own memory rather than through space. She was thirty-four, an age that had not yet arrived at the dignity of middle age but had certainly...

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