The Wistful Mirror
Chapter One Cornwall in the winter of 1942 is a place where the roads close in winter, not by decree but by the sheer, physical weight of the sea mist that rolls up from the gorge and settles into the crevices of the stone. The mining camp hums with the low, constant drone of the power station, a sound that gets into your teeth and stays there, vibrating against the jawbone while the men haul...
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