The Distant Whispers

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-22 09:35:10 -

The train moved. It moved always. I watched the trees. They blurred. My hand held the box. It was small. It was warm. Inside, it hummed. I did not look at it. I looked out. The landscape was grey. Rain on the glass. I was leaving. I was running. I was home. Margaret sat across from me. She did not speak. She looked at her hands. They were still. They were pale. She had been my wife for thirty...

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