The Faded Alibi
The bell above the door did not ring. It screamed. You were standing by the window when the noise hit. It was not a sound you could place in the air. It was a vibration in your teeth. In the hollow of your chest. The workshop was cold. The dust motes danced in the grey light, suspended in a stillness that suddenly shattered. You turned. The old man was there. Not walking. Standing. He had...
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