The Faded Guest
The watch was ticking backward. It was a small, brass thing, dented on the left side where the crown used to be, and it sat on the desk in the sealed reading room, its second hand sweeping counter-clockwise with a soft, dry click that sounded like a bone snapping. I had found it in Professor Alderman’s coat pocket three days after the funeral. It was the only personal item he had left, and it...
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