Between the Beam and the Abyss
Between the beam and the water, between the lamp and the trench, between the surface and the depth, there was a space that belonged to neither. The fog lived there. The light moved through it, diffusing, weakening, becoming less of a signal and more of a suggestion. And William Hartley, standing on the gallery of Bell Rock Light at midnight, understood that this space was not empty. It was the...
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