The Faded Photograph
The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed against the leaded glass of the attic window, a relentless, dull percussion that matched the hollow beating of Elias’s heart. He sat on the floorboards, his back against the cold stone, and held the glove in his lap. It was a single leather gauntlet, brown and stiff with age. The leather had cracked. The stitching had frayed. It was worn,...
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