The Distant Threshold
The train slowed as it entered the valley, the iron wheels grinding against the track with a sound like a long, drawn-out sigh. Elias Thorne sat by the window, his forehead resting against the cool glass, watching the fog peel away from the hills in slow, grey sheets. He was not a man who looked back, not anymore. The past had been a heavy coat he had finally torn off his shoulders, leaving him...
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