The Wistful Throne

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 14:54:58 -

The rain hit the glass. It sounded like static. Arthur stood in the center of the room. He held the chair. It was his chair. Oak. Worn. The wood was pale from years of hands. He was the only man left in the building. The others had gone. Or they had stopped being visible. The office was a vault. Glass walls. Steel beams. Cold air. Arthur was a carpenter. Or he had been. Now he built things for...

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