The Distant Nightmare
The train shook. I held the lantern. It was old. The brass was dark. The glass was thin. It had been with me for three years. It had seen things. I kept it close. My hand shook. The cold bit through my coat. We were moving. The wheels clicked. It was a sound I knew. It was a sound that meant the end of one thing and the start of another. I was going back. I was a captain. That was my rank. It...
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