The Distant Summer
The rain fell in sheets against the window of my cell, a steady, rhythmic tapping that measured the hours I had left before dawn. I counted the drops. One, two, three. Four. Five. The sound was the only thing that remained of the world outside, a monotonous clockwork that kept time for a man who had stopped caring about it. I held the silver watch in my left hand. It was cold. It was still. It...
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