The Wistful Voyage

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 21:58:48 -

The rain lashed the slate roof like a handful of gravel. Elias Vane stood at the window, his knuckles white against the cold glass. He watched the fog roll off the moor, thick and gray, erasing the horizon. It was a good day to bury a secret. Or so he told himself. The house, Blackwood Manor, groaned in the wind. It was old stone and older silence. Elias was a maker of clocks. Fine, intricate...

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