The Distant Summer

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2026-08-22 13:27:57 -

The soup was cold. That was the first thing Elias noticed. Not the taste, which had gone flat and metallic, but the temperature. It sat in the dented tin mug like a grey puddle, refusing to yield warmth to his fingers. He sat on the edge of his bunk in the barracks, the linoleum floor sticky under his bare feet. Outside, the rain tapped against the window pane, a rhythmic, indifferent...

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