The Faded Apartment
The mud in the trench at Ypres did not just cling to Elias Thorne’s skin; it seemed to seep into the marrow of his left arm, a cold, viscous weight that no amount of scrubbing could remove. It was November of 1917, and the rain had turned the battlefield into a grey slurry that swallowed sound and light alike, leaving only the distant, rhythmic thud of artillery to mark the passage of time....
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