The Wistful Letter

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2026-08-24 09:39:46 -

The frost had not yet claimed the garden at Blackwood Asylum, but the air tasted of it, a metallic sharpness that coated the back of my throat like a film of rust. I stood before the Path of Reason, that long, winding ribbon of grey flagstones that cut through the center of the grounds, and I knew with a certainty that defied logic that it was crumbling from within. For seven years I have...

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