The Freehold of the Shaded Wing
Autumn Court Debt Collector
If you see him, and you have an appointment, he can make your life better.
If for some reason he comes to you, your new life has taken a very bad wrong turn somewhere…
Why is it always dark? Always at the start, the room is dim, till you turn the lights. Every night. You settle in, to read the night through. Quiet. Usual. The chair worn to fit you perfectly, its arms tattered from use, but you like the feel. The pool table is covered by cloth, the poker set resting on its caddy. No visitors tonight. Nothing to play. So you read. The book falls open, the marker too thick. The ring. Damned thing followed you here? Or is it yours, just a memory? Your hands itch, and you lift it up. Must be yours, it must be. You wanted it though . . . so badly . . . is that enough? Is that permission, agreement, a seal? Damned if you know. Damned if you are fool enough to find out. It sits on the table, light limning its edge, and you watch it, all through the night.