The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 15:08:34 -

The magistrate’s gavel struck the wood, a dry, sharp crack that echoed off the high, vaulted ceiling of the tribunal hall, and I stood there with the Grey Coat folded in my arms, feeling the salt damp of the fog seep through the wool into my shirt. "Are you finished, Mr. Thorne?" the magistrate asked, his voice thin and reedy, like a pipe leaking air. I looked at the coat. It was Julian’s. It...

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