The Wistful Silence
The radio didn’t crackle; it simply stopped, a wet, heavy absence that pressed against my eardrums like deep water, and I realized with a cold, sinking certainty that Sarah was no longer out there in the fog, but somewhere inside the silence itself. I am Elias Thorne, forty-two, a senior border patrol agent on the Canadian line, and I am writing this final log to Colonel Vance because I have...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews