Chapter 46 · for subscribers
Eleven paces from my own bed. I pressed a paper seal across that door on my first morning in this house and for twelve days I was proud of it, and in those twelve days a candidate knelt on my gravel at noon and slept warm up here at night, and a keeper of the register walked in and out on the quarter-days, and the only person the paper ever kept out was me.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.