The Distant Clue
The hall was loud. Too loud. The chandeliers burned with a harsh, industrial glare, cutting through the smoke and the cheap perfume. You stood in the corner. You were still in your uniform. The grey wool was heavy. It smelled of gunpowder and old sweat. The other men wore suits. Suits that had never known the mud. They laughed. The sound was wet. It stuck in your throat. You held your glass....
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