The Golden Scar
The rejection letter arrived on a Tuesday, stamped with the cold, blue seal of the Ministry of Purity. Elias Thorne read it twice, his fingers trembling not from fear but from the sudden, violent ache in his joints, a pain that had been his companion for five years and was now spreading to his lungs. He was a chemist, not a poet, yet the words on the page seemed to float in the air of his small...
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