The Distant Legend
The notice was pinned to the corkboard with a single rusted tack, the paper yellowed by the damp that seeps into the walls of the Oakhaven Constabulary every November. I read it twice. Elias Vane, missing. Presumed thief. Pension claim denied pending investigation. The ink was smudged where the clerk’s thumb had pressed, a brown blur like a dried bruise. I wanted the pension. I wanted the six...
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