The Faded Apartment
The morning light fell in a pale, slanted strip across the flagstones of the granary, illuminating the dust that hung suspended in the air like a fine, grey powder. Thomas Bradshaw, constable of the village for twenty-two years, counted the hours remaining until his pension was secured, a sum of forty shillings per annum that would allow him to buy a small plot of land and finally rest his...
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