The Wistful Crossroads

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2026-08-21 15:38:11 -

The watch was gold. Heavy. It sat in my palm like a dead bird. "Is it broken?" I looked up. Thomas stood by the door. Rain streaked the glass. The house groaned. We were alone. Or we thought we were. "Yes," I said. "It is broken." Thomas stepped in. He was wet. His coat dripped on the floor. The floorboards were old. They creaked under his weight. He looked at the watch. He looked at me. "Your...

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