The Distant Cartograph
The wind rattled the windowpane, a sharp, mechanical click that sounded like a bone snapping. I was in the study, the room where my brother’s desk still sat, heavy with the dust of years. I had come to finish the survey. The estate was in debt, the mortgage default was three weeks away, and the only way to clear the name was to prove the structural integrity was beyond repair. I needed the...
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