The Wistful Letter
The porcelain face of the music box lies in your hands, a shattered disc of white bone, and the subsonic hum that leaks from its cracked casing makes your vision swim into blackness for three seconds before the light returns. You are Elias Thorne, thirty-four years old, a clockmaker in the industrial town of Blackwood, and you have wanted to repair this object since the day Clara died, a desire...
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