The Wistful Throne
Chapter One Does a man own his own ending? Tadhg Kavanagh asked the question to the empty room, his voice swallowed by the hum of the ventilation. He was the night manager at the franchise motel on the bog roads, a job that paid in silence and stale coffee. His hands trembled, a palsy that had started three years ago and now lived in his fingertips like a second pulse. He wanted to brew the...
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