The Wistful Skyline
"You see it, don’t you? The way the light bends." The voice came from the shadows of the library, low and trembling, a sound like dry leaves skittering across gravel. I stood by the window, my back to the room, watching the twilight bleed into the street below. The house was silent, a heavy, suffocating silence that pressed against my eardrums, but the air was thick with the electric charge of...
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