The Pale Banner
The house was quiet. Too quiet. David sat at the kitchen table. The coffee had gone cold. He looked at his hands. They were steady. They had always been steady. That was the point of being a scholar. You controlled the variables. You controlled the tone. You did not let the world bleed into your notes. Outside, the wind hit the siding. It sounded like a warning. Or maybe a joke. David did not...
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