The Wistful Voyage
The letter from Mr. Halloway arrived on a Tuesday, the envelope already browned at the corners as if it had been waiting in the postbox for a week, though the date on the return address was only three days prior. I held it up to the window, the glass cold against my thumb, and watched the oak tree in the garden sway in a wind that did not seem to touch the paper. The ink was sharp, the...
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