The Wistful Letter
14 November 1904 I am writing this because the ink in my fountain pen has begun to move on its own, tracing letters that I did not write. I am Arthur Vane, thirty-four years old, junior archivist at the Blackwood Institute, and I am terrified. The room is cold, the gaslight hisses in its brass socket, and the manuscript I was ordered to destroy is gone. I need to set down the facts before my...
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