The Pale Banner
The town of Oakhaven did not sleep; it only held its breath. You knew this because the silence had a texture, a grit against the teeth, like the dust that settled on the window sills of your shop. You were a restorer of clocks, a man who dealt in the precise, mechanical obedience of gears and springs, and you believed that if you could just tighten the right screw, the world would tick in time...
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