The Pale Shadows
The ink on the ledger pages was still wet when I first noticed the smell of ozone and burning hair that clung to the wool of my coat, a scent that seemed to have seeped into the very fibers of my being during the long, rattling journey from the front lines to the rear echelons of the administrative offices in the damp, industrial town of Blackwood. I had spent the last three weeks in a trench...
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