The Faded Frequency
The letter lay on the desk, its edges curling slightly under the weight of the brass telegraph key, the paper yellowed by the damp air of the signal room where the smell of ozone and stale tobacco hung thick as a fog. I read it twice, my eyes tracing the dry, precise script of Colonel Halloway, the man who had taught me that a wire is a muscle and a signal is a heartbeat, and I wondered if he...
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