The Distant Clue
The hand trembled. It was a small thing, a shiver in the knuckles, but in the quiet of the house, it sounded like a crack in dry wood. Arthur stood in the kitchen, staring at his own fingers as they hovered over the porcelain mug. He did not drink. He simply held the warmth. You must understand the silence of this house. It was not empty. It was full. Full of the ticking of the grandfather...
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