The Faded Photograph
Willis Fenwick looked at the silver watch on his wrist and knew, with a cold certainty that felt like a fracture in the bone, that he had forgotten his mother’s name. The hands had vanished first, sinking into the metal like nails driven deep, leaving only a blank, tarnished face that pulsed with a rhythm matching his own failing heart. He stood in the shadow of the loess cliffs, the wind...
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