The Wistful Saga

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2026-08-22 12:58:43 -

The Wistful Saga

The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, industrial drumming against the tin roof of the ward that turned the silence into a physical weight. I sat on the edge of the cot, my hands trembling as I held the glass vial of morphine, watching the liquid swirl with a hypnotic, oily iridescence that seemed to absorb the dim light of the gas lamp. Father lay in the next bed, his breathing...

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