"He sat at his own table that night, a lonely old man, missing the spirit and the laughter that once filled his house-a house he'd built with his own hands all those long years ago. The quiet got to him at night when the wind came blowing strong down from the mountain above. He could hear the beating of his heart, a steady thump, thump, thump. The parlor clock with the family name etched upon its face ticked and tocked, reminding him that his time...
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