The Wistful Skyline
The fog did not arrive so much as it solidified, a thick, gray paste that choked the air of the small coastal town of Oakhaven, turning the streetlights into hazy, weeping eyes and silencing the usual creak of the pier into a heavy, suffocating hush that pressed against the eardrums of every soul who remained awake within its suffocating embrace. Thomas Bradshaw stood at the window of his...
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