The Wistful Skyline
The Wistful Skyline By Margaret Whitfield The tide withdrew from Whitby like a promise broken, leaving the harbour basin bare and gawping, a mouth without teeth. Abigail Marsh walked the stones in her bare feet, the shells crunching beneath her arches like old bones. She had been coming here since she was a child—no, since before she could remember—and the harbour had always been this...
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