The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-18 23:28:04 -

The steam from the kettle in the breakroom of the Whitmore & Sons Textile Mill hung in the air like a ghost refusing to leave, curling around the jagged edges of the window frames where the glass had long since turned a murky, yellowish brown, and Arthur Penhaligon stood there, his hand resting on the cold porcelain of his cup, feeling the heat seep into his palm in a way that felt less like...

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