The Distant Temple
The bell above the door did not ring. It had been silent for three weeks, a dead metal tongue hanging in the dry air of the shop, but today, as the morning light slanted through the dusty windows, it gave a single, hollow chime. I looked up from the workbench, where a half-finished clock mechanism lay in pieces. My hands were stained with grease and oil, the black smudges running into the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews