The Wistful Saga
The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent and grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of the old manor into slick, dark mirrors reflecting the bare branches of the elms, and it was in this damp, clinging silence that Thomas Bradshaw, the estate’s long-suffering groundskeeper, realized that his hands, which had once been strong enough to split oak logs with a single axe blow, now...
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