The Wistful Skyline
The brass pocket watch had stopped ticking at exactly four o’clock on a Tuesday, and it was this silence that finally broke the resolve of Elias Thorne. He held it in his palm, the metal warm from the skin of his hand, feeling the weight of the stillness as if it were a physical stone. The watch belonged to him, or rather, it had belonged to him, before he had given it to Arthur. It was a...
0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 1 Views 0 Vista previa