The Faded Guest
The rain comes down in sheets, cold and indifferent, beating against the windowpane of the small, rented room where you are sitting. You are trying to remember the sound of your own heartbeat, but it is a distant thing, muffled by the years and the weight of the uniform you no longer wear. Your hands, resting on the table, are not your own hands. They are too large, too scarred, the knuckles...
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