The Distant Promise

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 09:53:05 -

"You’re late, Colm." The voice came from the shadows of the counting house, low and rough as sand on glass. Colm Yeats did not turn. He stood before the locked ledger box, his hand white-knuckled around the rusted key. The air was heavy, the humidity of the Leitrim autumn pressing against the windowpanes until they wept condensation. Behind him, the flag rope slapped the pole outside, a...

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