The Distant Clue
The ceiling of my study had not fallen in when I woke, but the air tasted of plaster dust and old rain. I lay still, listening to the silence that followed the crash, a silence so heavy it pressed against my eardrums like deep water. For a long moment, I did not move. My body remembered the shape of the room, the specific angle of the window, the way the light had struck the desk before the...
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