The Distant Garden
The order was written in pencil on a scrap of paper no larger than a matchbook, the graphite smudged by sweat and frost. Elias Thorne read it twice, the words blurring in the freezing mud of the trench, then folded it into his breast pocket where it pressed against the hollow of his ribs like a cold stone. It was a directive from Major Vance, citing intelligence that the enemy had breached the...
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