The Distant Threshold
The glass shatters. It is a long, thin sound. It splits the air in the hallway. You hold your breath. The shards glitter on the dark wood floor. You are a man of the law. You have worn the badge for twenty years. Your hands are steady. They are always steady. The mirror was beautiful. It belonged to your father. He brought it home from the factory in 1920. It was a prize. It was a promise. Now...
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