The Distant Cartograph
The letter lay on the desk, its edges curling slightly in the damp air of the basement office, the ink still wet where Elias Thorne had signed it. It was a standard requisition form, Form 4-B, for the replacement of three corroded valves in the Sector 7 main line, but as he stared at his own signature, a strange coldness settled in the pit of his stomach, a sensation that had no name and no...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews