The Distant Affair
The rain in Ashworth was not merely water but a heavy, industrial sleet that turned the cobblestones of the town square into a slick, black mirror reflecting the gas lamps and the looming, iron skeleton of the Great Clock. Elias Thorne stood beneath the awning of his workshop, watching the hands of the central timepiece move backward, a slow, counter-clockwise creep that defied the mechanical...
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