Chapter 11 · free to read
Day twenty. The press had turned, the venture was stable, and the sofa had stopped being a border about a week ago.
He had reorganised an entire quarter around a person who steals knitwear. He minded far less than he should have.
He had done that on the eleventh day and had not once put it back in the wardrobe since.
Beaten in the open, he simply stopped operating in the open. The crimson had gone out of the pocket square that same week.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.