The Wistful Dinner
The oil can trembled in my hand, the nozzle dripping a single, viscous bead onto the brass escapement, and I watched it sink into the metal as if the clock were alive and thirsty. I am Elias Thorne, a clockmaker of forty-two years, and for the last six months I have been tasked with repairing the Grand Chime before the King’s coronation, a duty that cost me my sanity and, eventually, my life....
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