The Distant Promise
The bus smelled of wet wool and diesel. Elias sat in the back, his uniform pressed tight against his chest. It was a heavy thing, the badge. Not the metal one on his belt, but the weight of the years. He watched the rain streak the windows. Each drop ran down, merging with another, disappearing into the grey mud of the countryside. He was going home. Or what was left of it. The house stood on a...
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