The Distant Ghost
The house smelled of wet wool and old copper. Elias sat in the high-backed chair, the leather cracked like dried earth, listening to the tick of the grandfather clock in the hall. It was a slow, heavy sound, like a heart beating under a thick coat. He had been sitting there for an hour, waiting for his mother to come, but she was still in the next room, coughing into a handkerchief that came...
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