The Faded Alibi
The frost came hard that year. It settled on the roof of the guardhouse like a white shroud. Elias stood by the door. He watched the snow. It did not fall. It hovered. The air was thin. He pulled his collar tight. The wool scratched his neck. He was a soldier. Or so he thought. The uniform was old. The buttons were brass. They were green with age. He had worn them for a long time. Maybe years....
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