The Faded Shield
The coughing fit took you at the shift change, a violent, rattling thing that seemed to shake the very fillings in your teeth. You stood in the corridor of St. Jude’s Sanatorium, the air thick with the scent of boiled linseed oil and old sweat, and watched the steam rise from the basin of warm water on the table. Your wife, Elara, stood just behind you, her hand resting on the small of your...
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