The Golden Circuit
October 14, 1912. To Colonel Halloway, Department of Border Security. My lungs are failing, and I will not die in a ditch. I request immediate retirement with full pension. The mine is cursed, but I am a man, not a ghost. I am writing this by the light of a lantern that sputters like a dying man’s breath. The air tastes of sulfur and rot. I am Elias Thorne, Captain, forty-two years old, and I...
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