The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-23 13:38:53 -

The furnace breathes, a slow and terrible inhalation that pulls the very marrow from my bones, and in the center of that blue, spectral throat, I see her, Margaret, standing as she did the morning the fever took her, her face a mask of such profound and terrible indifference that I cannot look away, for to look away is to bleed, a single drop of crimson falling from my nose onto the white sand...

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