The Distant Threshold
The stylus in my hand trembled, a fine, rhythmic shiver that made the ink waver on the crisp white page of the patient chart, and I had to stop writing to press my fingers against the desk, grounding myself in the cold, hard reality of the oak surface before I could form the next sentence. I am Dr. Elias Thorne, and I am fifty-eight years old, and I have spent three decades mapping the...
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