The Pale Mist
The Pale Mist The lighthouse on the Cliffs of Moher did not belong to her. She had inherited it the way one inherits a weather pattern—inevitably, without consent, as something that simply arrives and changes the shape of everything around it. Catherine Ashworth-Moore stood on the gallery deck of the tower, wrapped in a coat that was not hers, watching the Irish Sea turn itself into mist and...
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