The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-18 01:31:13 -

The Pale Meridian

The jar sat on the counter. Amber glass. Thick walls. It caught the gray light from the window and held it, refusing to let it go. I watched it. I didn't touch it. Touching it would mean admitting it was still there. Admitting it was still mine. My name is Thomas. I make clocks. Small ones. Pocket watches. Things that tick. Things that keep a rhythm so you don't have to count the seconds...

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