The Distant Ghost
The boiler hissed. A low, continuous groan from the depths of the basement. Elias stood by the porthole. The glass was cold. He breathed on it. A small circle of fog appeared. It vanished. The ship was still. The water was black. He adjusted his collar. The wool itched. He ignored it. His hands shook. He hid them in his pockets. The leather of his gloves cracked. He had worn them for three...
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