The Wistful Saga
The invoice lay on the wet workbench, its edges curling in the damp air of the mason’s shop, detailing the final payment for the granite cornerstone that had been delivered three weeks prior. Elias Thorne, a man whose hands were mapped with the white scars of chisel slips and mortar burns, held the paper with a grip that was more rigid than necessary, his thumb pressing the ink of the total,...
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