The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 23:21:28 -

The glass tower hummed. It was a sound like a bee trapped in a jar. Elias stood on the fourteenth floor. He was twelve. He was alone. The air tasted of ozone and old paper. Below, the city moved in slow, viscous lines. Cars. People. Noise. Here, it was silent. Except for the hum. And the clock. Tick. Tick. Tick. The clock was large. It was brass. It sat on the desk. The desk was mahogany. It...

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