The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-17 17:26:29 -

The clock in the hallway had stopped at three. It had stopped years ago, but I kept winding it. The tick was a lie, but a necessary one. It gave the house a pulse. I am a clockmaker. Or I was. The shop is in the back of the house now. The front is for sale. The sign outside says Vacancy. The glass is cracked. A bird has nested in the awning. I do not look at it. My hands shake. The tremor...

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