The Distant Threshold
The envelope was thick, cream-colored, and smelled faintly of lavender and hospital antiseptic. Elias Thorne held it against the cold concrete of his cell wall, his fingers tracing the heavy crease where the flap had been sealed. Inside lay a typed letter from the prison administration, its font sharp and impersonal, denying his request for a case review. The paper was smooth under his touch, a...
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