The Wistful Witness
You stand before the mirror. The glass is old. It is thick. It smells of dust and iron. You are a clerk. You wear grey. Your hands are dry. You count the coins in your pocket. One. Two. Three. The room is silent. The clock ticks. It is a heavy sound. It is the sound of bone breaking. You look at your reflection. It looks back. It is not you. It is someone else. It is the man who will die. This...
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