The Wistful Skyline
The rain fell upon the roof of the house with a rhythmic, relentless persistence, a sound that Elias had once found comforting but now perceived as a drumbeat counting down the seconds of his remaining grace. He stood in the center of the living room, his back to the fire, holding the brass birdcage with a tenderness that belied the exhaustion etched into his weathered face. The cage was empty,...
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