The Wistful Atlas

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2026-08-19 20:11:25 -

The Wistful Atlas

The heavy wool of my greatcoat, a garment that had seen forty winters and the salt spray of three different coasts, sat draped over the back of the chair in the center of the living room, a silent witness to the slow decay of my honor, and as I looked at it, I could feel the phantom weight of the badge I had been stripped of pressing against my sternum, a cold, metallic bruise that no amount of...

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