The Distant Clue
The coat was blue. It had been blue when he bought it in Leeds, forty years ago. Now it was the color of a bruise. The color of deep water. Of old blood. It hung on the hook by the door. It did not move. The wind outside moved. The wind tore at the glass. The glass shook. The coat stayed still. It was heavy. It was thin. It was both. His name was Thomas. He lived in the house. The house was...
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