The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-17 19:01:25 -

The rain fell in sheets, a grey curtain that erased the line between the street and the sky. I stood in the doorway of the manor, my uniform soaked through, the wool heavy and cold against my skin. My boots squelched in the mud. I did not step inside. I remained a sentry at the threshold, a stone in a stream. You were sitting at the long oak table. The candlelight was dying, a small, trembling...

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