The Wistful Witness
The trowel scraped against the limestone, a dry, rasping sound that echoed in the empty nave. Elias Thorne, forty-two and junior archivist for the County Historical Society, wiped the dust from his forehead with a sleeve that was already grey. He was restoring the altar rail, a task that required patience and a steady hand, both of which were in short supply given the state of his pension fund....
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