The Faded Frontier
The storm did not break against the cliffs of the Isle of Man; it dissolved into them, a black and churning tide that swallowed the very concept of horizon until the world was nothing but a screaming void of water and the jagged, iron teeth of the lighthouse where I stood, trapped in a cage of my own making, a detective in a case that had no evidence, no motive, and no end, only the relentless,...
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