The Faded Portrait
The fog rolled in thick as wool. It swallowed the docks. It swallowed the lights. It swallowed the men. Calloway stood by the rail. His hands were steady. His eyes were dry. He watched the water. The water was black. The water was alive. "Another one, sir?" asked Miller. Miller stood in the shadows. He wore his uniform tight. His face was pale. His lips were blue. He trembled. "Yes, Miller,"...
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