The Faded Quadrant
The frost had settled on the windowpane of the observation car in such a delicate, intricate lattice that it resembled the skeletal structure of a tree that had died of thirst, a fragile white map of winter drawn upon the glass by the breath of the cold night. Lieutenant Arthur Thorne sat with his back to the window, his hands resting upon the worn leather of the dispatch case that lay across...
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