The Faded Dust
The uniform sat on the chair like a hollow shell, its wool fibers matted and dull under the fluorescent hum of the locker room. It was a garment that had once held the rigid geometry of authority, tailored to a specific, muscular ideal of state power, but now it lay crumpled, a testament to the friction between the body that wore it and the life that had eroded it. Elias Thorne stood before the...
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