The Machine Of Wester Moorley (§.05)

§.05 Albrecht was confident the statue he spied through the window of the school was that which rested in his coat pocket. He strode up the porch and tried the handle. Unlocked. Drawn by curiosity the man pressed within and looked around with slight trepidation. The school, Albrecht surmised, had formerly been a saloon, for… Continue reading The Machine Of Wester Moorley (§.05)