The Wistful Witness
The bell rang. It did not chime. It screamed. A high, thin wail that tore through the heavy air of the office. I did not look up. I was counting the pins in my belt. One. Two. Three. The leather was tight. It always was. "Mr. Aldous," said the clerk. His voice was wet. "The King wishes to see you." I looked up. My hands were shaking. Not with fear. With hunger. I had not eaten in three days....
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