The Wistful Silence

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2026-08-22 07:06:36 -

The hand was floating again, hovering just above the coal dust in the shaft, severed at the wrist, the fingers still curled as if holding a pen or a pick. I blinked, and it vanished, leaving only the gray smudge of sweat on my brow and the rhythmic clanking of the cage above. I was fourteen, and I had a wife. It was a fact that sat heavy in my chest, heavier than the coal on my back. Elara was...

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