The Wistful Voyage

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2026-08-22 13:54:12 -

The frost had settled on the windowpane like a fine, white lace, a delicate veil that obscured the world beyond into a soft, grey blur. "Did you see it, Silas?" asked Eleanor, her voice light, almost playful, as if discussing the price of wool or the weather. She stood by the hearth, her back to the fire, watching the shadows dance on the wall. "The thing in the yard. It wasn't a dog." Silas...

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