The Lighthouse at the Edge of Dusk
ACT I: THE SUMMONS The fog came in on the tide that autumn, thick as wool and smelling of the Thames' oldest sins. Arthur Blackwood stood at the stern of the Royal Research Vessel Pandora, watching it swallow the shoreline of Plymouth whole, and wondered for the third time that morning whether he had made a catastrophic error in judgment. "Stop looking so pale, Doctor Blackwood," said Captain...
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