The Distant Threshold
The rain fell in sheets. It hammered the tin roof of the watchtower. Thomas stood by the window. His back was to the room. He did not look at his wife. He held a glass of water. His hands were still. The water trembled. He had been a sergeant for thirty years. The town of Oakhaven knew him. They called him the Anchor. He was solid. He was safe. He was the wall against the chaos of the world....
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