The Distant Summer

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 10:53:54 -

My hands were black with mud, the clay packed into the whorls of my palms, when I found the watch. It lay in the sump, half-buried in the slurry that smelled of iron and rot. I fished it out with a stick, then pulled it free with my fingers. The silver case was dented, the glass cracked, but the mechanism still ticked against the cold metal of my trench coat. I put it in my pocket. It was...

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