The Pale Banner
The letter lay on the desk, the ink still damp where my signature had been. It was a dismissal notice, polite in its cruelty, citing "restructuring" and "efficiency." I held the pen in my right hand, the nib scratching against the air as I read it for the third time. My left hand rested on the edge of the oak, fingers curled tight against the wood. The wood was cold. It had been cold all...
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