The Faded Guest
Chapter One Who keeps a name alive in the tax records when the man has been dead for five years? The question hung in the damp air of the workshop loft, heavier than the haze that rolled off the Fens, blurring the far shore into a rumor of grey. Homer Stroud adjusted the fish-spear of split bone resting against his knee, the wood splintered and worn smooth by years of handling, and looked at...
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