The Faded Paradox
The train cut through the gray mist like a blade through silk, the rhythmic clatter of wheels on steel lulling me into a state of heavy, leaden fatigue. I sat in the second-class car, my hands resting on my knees, feeling the damp cold seep through my wool trousers. I was a man who had spent thirty years keeping order, but the order I kept was a house built on sand, and I knew it, even as the...
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