The Pale Banner
The rain tapped a steady, hollow rhythm against the windowpane of the municipal office, a sound that seemed to mimic the ticking of the clock on the wall, counting down the seconds of my life in the gray, damp air of November 1912. I sat across from Mr. Halloway, the Chief Clerk, and watched his fingers drum on the desk, a nervous, percussive beat that matched the anxiety tightening my chest. I...
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