The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 19:23:35 -

The fog did not roll in. It rose from the cobblestones, thick and grey, erasing the streetlamps one by one until the city of Oakhaven was a void of suspended breath. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the river, his hands wrapped around a bottle of cheap brandy. The liquid burned a thin line down his throat. He was a clockmaker, a man of gears and escapements, yet the time in his head had...

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