The Pale Banner
"You are to file this under 'Negligence,' Margaret." The voice was thin. It cut through the damp air of the room. It hung there. It did not move. Margaret sat. She held the letter. The paper was white. It was soft. It felt like skin. She did not look up. She looked at the desk. The wood was dark. It was polished. It reflected nothing. Arthur Penrose stood. He wore a suit. It was gray. It was...
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