The Faded Attic

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2026-08-18 20:39:58 -

The Faded Attic

The fog did not lift. It thickened. It rolled in from the black water, heavy as wet wool, smelling of iron and rot. It swallowed the lighthouse. It swallowed the rocks. It swallowed the shore. Mason stood on the deck. His hands shook. Not from cold. From fear. "You’re shaking, old man," said Callum. Callum was young. Too young. His face was smooth, unlined by wind or war. He wore his uniform...

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