Beneath the flickering lamplight, amidst the cacophony of a thousand ticking clocks, sat Ross, whose very existence seemed as enigmatic as the shadowy recesses of the shop he haunted. It was on one storm-lashed evening that our tale finds him, his fingers deftly manipulating the delicate innards of a particularly obstinate timepiece—a relic from an era whose memories were as faded as the gilt on its casing. The storm outside howled like a banshee at war with the living, yet within the confines of that little shop, time seemed a prisoner, never quite moving forward, always spiraling inward. As the […]