The Distant Affair
The dream began not with an image but with a sound, a low, grinding hum that seemed to emanate from the marrow of the floorboards, a vibration that traveled up through the soles of his shoes and settled in the hollows of his chest, a frequency so deep it was less heard than felt, a tectonic shifting of the earth beneath the sterile, beige carpet of the administrative corridor where Elias Thorne...
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