The Distant Legend
The rain drummed against the leaded glass. Elias Thorne stood alone in the attic. Dust motes danced in the single beam of light from the skylight. He was old. His knees clicked when he moved. He looked at the blueprints spread across the floor. They were yellowed. They were brittle. He traced the lines with a trembling finger. This was the house he had built. No, not built. Designed. The house...
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