The Wistful Mirror
The letter lay on the packing table, its ink still wet, the seal of the Department of Geology breaking under Elias Thorne’s thumb. It was a polite refusal, a bureaucratic severance that cost nothing but dignity. He read it twice, noting the precise grammar of his own exclusion, before sliding it into the drawer with the other documents of a career built on sediment and silence. Outside, the...
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