The Faded Road
The wool of my uniform had worn thin at the elbows, a ragged lace of grey fiber that caught the light in the precinct hallway. I adjusted my tie, the knot tight and precise, a small act of control in a world that felt increasingly loose at its seams. My name is Thomas Hale, and I am a constable in Ashford, a man who has spent thirty-two years trying to keep the line between order and chaos...
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