The Distant Crown
The rain hit the glass. It did not tap. It struck. I watched the droplets slide down the window of the observatory. They left trails like tears. I wiped the lens. The glass was cold. My hands shook. They always shook. I am the keeper. I am the blind. I am the one who sees nothing but the math. The tower stood alone on the hill. It was a stone tooth in the earth. We called it the Spire. It was...
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