The Distant Summer
The mask whispers when you hold it, a sound like dry leaves skittering over stone. You are Elias, forty-two, the archivist of the valley town, and your back aches with a dull, persistent throb that the heating oil bill has only worsened. For three weeks, you have ignored the debt notices piling up on your desk, focused solely on the shattered porcelain face of Silas Vane. Silas was your mentor,...
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